


Fade Into The Dawn

by Canadian_Alygator



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, I already have feelings, Love/Hate, Multi, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Self-Hatred, Swearing, Templars mages and wardens oh my, idk just be warned I'm a garbage fire, it's been 84 years since I wrote anything oop, self destructive, templar and the mage, two sides of a damaged coin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:41:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 54,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24405985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canadian_Alygator/pseuds/Canadian_Alygator
Summary: Freya Trevelyan was severed from her family completely due to her development of magic. A fleeting time knowing the embrace of family, and then forced into a harsh world. Enduring suffering upon suffering. It was little wonder why the young mage never trusted anyone with ease. After a year on the run, she has found herself thrust in the center of events. It's no longer a fight for her life - but for all of Thedas. It's in the face of these trials she may just find family. And in the least likely of places come to know something of love.---------------------------------I love my cullywully. And I love the fluffy stuff. But this is more taking on a - darker Cullen then they show in the games. Playing with learned prejudice. Hate born through trauma that was never dealt with. And naturally Freya is just the other side of the same coin. Honest mess that shouldn't end up together - but you know what. It's going to happen *evil cackle*- ANYWAYS. That all said. She was abused in the circle - and that will come up in all this most likely a few times >.>
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor & Cullen Rutherford, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 30
Kudos: 22





	1. Far From Home

**Author's Note:**

> It has been 84 years since I have written anything. My dyslexic ass has been playing the Dragon Age series way to much and so decided I needed to write out some fanfics of the series obviously. Lmao. Anyways. Please do read and reply. Let me know what you think. Forgive my shit spelling and grammar best you can lol... Anyways. For this first chapter - it's a bit short to start. And it does mention sexual abuse. But for this chapter, it will not be going into anything really detailed. Though chances are future chapters will delve further into the trauma she hasn't gotten over yet.

_I'm so far from home_

_So far from home_

_I'm sending a raven_

_With blood on its wings_

_Hoping it reaches you in time_

_And you know what it means_

_'Cause out here in the darkness_

_And out of the light_

_If you get to me too late_

_Just know that I tried_

  
  


**_Sam Tinnesz - Far From Home (The Raven)_ **

* * *

Memories are a powerful thing. Much as they shift and change in our remembering. These capsules of the past. Little blocks that build us up. Because the past and how we remember it - how we _feel_ it - that is what molds us into who we are. Memories are the things that build us, as well as destroy. They can be the foundation of our strength, of our courage. Or the ghosts and demons that haunt us. Ever whispering and tormenting. Strip memories away - you start to strip away the person. Unmaking them. The good. The bad. Every man is made up of these things. Entwined are we, with our memories, and the emotions they inspire. Void of memory we are but empty vessels adrift.

For Freya Trevelyan - many of those memories that had come to molded her, had so strongly oppressed her. Leaving so many scars that the eye could not see. Scars far worse than any that may mar the freckled skin of the young mage.

So many memories heaving with sorrows. Even still it was easy to recall the day the Templars came to take her away from her family. When she’d truly been exposed to her family's view on mages. The years could not dampen the emotion of it. Betrayal. Fear. The unknown.

In the house Trevelyan - magic was a world to leave a bitter taste in the mouth. A vile word. Magic was not a gift. It was a curse. A blight. Any whom were so _crippled_ with the ability to wield magic within the Trevelyan family had found untimely ends, or found themselves cast off and cut off completely from their family. Old views and wounds inflicted upon the family in the past had forged their disdain for magic.To be marked with it was to be severed from the Trevelyan family. Cast out like a bastard child. Or rather worse in most cases for the family. No letters, no contact. As if they had truly died...

Still little Freya hadn’t understood such a thing. Still too young at the time to understand the finality of such a condemnation in her family. Once showered with the luxuries that came with her family and their nobility. One moment a treasure. And then the next… Pushed out like trash.

_Please... Mother! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!_

How she had struggled in futility against the grip of the Templar. Apologizing for something that was not even her fault. Still the man dragged her along… He was unrelenting and iron against the inferior strength that came with the small child. Her little body twisting, fighting valiantly to break free. Each part of her desperately wanting to run back and hide. The beat of her heart racing erratically. Anyone could have seen the fear in her large amber eyes. It mattered not that the bruise upon her face was inflicted by one of the people she desperately fought to return to. 

For a moment, Rey’s mother paused, tension coiling visibly in her shoulders. Yet not even daring to steal a glance back before stepping through the door. Not even as she closed the door.

Her child was a _mage_ . A word that tasted of scandal, that caused the woman to choke on it's treasonous meanings. Maryan Trevelyan had other children. Untainted by the mark of magic. Her _conditional_ love ended the moment her child showed the gift, having been the one that locked away Rey and word sent to the circle. A child stricken down by the blight would have been more welcomed then one showing the gift of magic. The _curse_ of it.

The pleading wails of a young Rey Trevelyan would not be acknowledged by her parents. The door closed and the child would be stricken from the family tree. Maryan only truly having been worrying that somehow the blame for birthing a child that had come to bear the abominable mark of magic would fall on her. 

Fist to skull, and silence finally stretched it’s eerie grip. Memories for the rest of the journey having been flickering at best. The stricken child limp. To be tied and tossed in the back of the cart. Where she’d remain for the rest of the travels. Whimpering for a family that no longer wanted her.

In essence. It started with the death of her former life. Death of belonging. Death of a home. 

Plucked from a once lavished life and cast into the cold harsh world. A child forced to learn to survive, to cope with the monsters that would surround her. Because there are always monsters.

_And most of them are human_.

She recalled her time with the Circle. After all it had been where the majority of her life was spent. Unfortunately for her, being raised in the circle wasn’t like finding another family. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t find a few people along the way to grow close too. But the fact that it was a world where being a mage came at a steep cost - it stripped you of your base humanity. Where any connections and bonds you built with the people around you could be in turn used to destroy you - And those you cared for. Dehumanized. Made less than. The knight commander and most those under his command were good at that. The mages nothing but enslaved vermin. Prisoners, caged under the guise of _protection_ and placate with the opportunity for learning. 

And the tormentous experience of the harrowing still haunted and nagged at the back of her mind some days in the dark of night. Even though she’d come out of her harrowing victorious… It had never felt as so. It felt as if pieces of her had been carved from her. If only that had been the worst of it...

Many lessons would be learned in the circle. To many of them born of suffering and abuse. Rey learned to see compliments as sweetly veiled threats. Promises of torment. Lessons given to enforce that one was truly alone and must first look out for themselves.Lest they destroy the ones they care for. _Trained_ to accept the unwanted touches, to force the bile down and bite her tongue when the knight commander took his obsession and loathing out on her.

Don’t fight back. Freya hated that lesson most. Perhaps she’d have never surrendered to it if they hadn’t been so ruthless and callus in the teaching of it. She’d fight. Another would be punished for it. Wedging a further divide between each mage. Rey seemed capable to take the beatings herself. But guilt would devour her the moment her actions cost someone else dearly. 

Only once had she tried to escape before the circles had fallen. Only to be dragged back in chains. Beaten. Worse of all though was not the punishment inflicted upon herself. But to be forced to endure watching one of her only friends be made tranquil. The first enchanter was too fearful of retribution upon his own head to deny the templars. 

Watching the innocent pay for her own crime - and such a brutal, severe cost. One that most the mages could agree was a fate worse than death. Withering further into herself from there, the mage distanced herself from those she lived with. Enduring her suffering on her own. Others knew. They understood what would happen to her. Where the bruises would come from. How he would rape and beat her to provoke reaction. His little flower, he’d call her. The little rose he delighted in crushing. 

Many nights with an empty sort of feeling clawing at her chest, she’d lay. Mind wandering, ruminating over thoughts of why he’d do the things he did. But why didn’t truly matter. It was no great mystery as to why her trust would wither up, why she’d find refuge in her dreams, why she’d sit with the far away look in those amber-honey eyes of hers, finding reprieve in a fantasy world she’d crafted for herself. Understanding the lie of it to herself. But needing it for the sake of survival.

Too easy was it to recall the harsh hands on flesh. The memories of being violated - raped and left used and broken - they haunted so close to the surface of her mind. Of the child - the little daughter she’d bore and had stolen from her. Taken away. With nothing she could do to stop it. Nothing she could do to protect the child. That had taken another big piece of her.

Memories of when the circle finally fell also would be easily recalled. A mix of vindication and mourning. Mourning for the last of those she truly cared for died. Vindication and vengeance for finally standing up for herself. Choosing _herself_ and _her_ own life. The power and victory she felt despite the many agonizing wounds upon her flesh… Despite the blood loss. The battle for her very life so poetically with the knight commander. And despite the wounds that had nearly taken her life - it was she that had risen. Victorious. Having used one of the monster's own blades to open the weeping wound upon his neck. Standing above him as he bled out. Before she’d fled herself. 

Where former sufferings crushed her, the memory of living through those wounds, and surviving the infection that would follow, empowered her. Rey learned to survive. Learned to trust in herself. Started to learn to choose herself. And the scars that remained served as marks of pride.

All these memories - the good. The bad. They made her who she was. Made her Freya. 

But now - something was missing. A small piece. The throbbing in her skull, and the overwhelming sense of thirst burning her parched throat. The trail to her lungs feeling scorched beyond a simple thirst. The unwelcomed and known sensation of heavy metal upon her wrists. The ache of bruised knees on stone. Stiffness nagging at her every joint. Mouth void of moisture, just as her eyes felt. So dry her eyelids felt like sandpaper as she’d opened her eyes. 

Freya couldn’t recall how she’d gotten here. What had happened… She barely could bring the string of thoughts nagging her about the temple of sacred ashes together coherently enough to recall she’d been heading there to gather information regarding the mage and templar talks. It was a sif someone had reached into her being and ripped away her memories. 

It had been a long time since Freya Trevelyan felt so _violated_ … 


	2. The Lone Survivor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up aching and chained isn't exactly the best start to someone's day. Rey isn't at all impressed with the situation... The idea of being the 'lone survivor' has weighty implications, and she's not sure she's ready to deal with that reality yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, here we go with the next part of our story... I had some time to write out over the last few days so I managed to get the first few done. This chapter, and the next, will most likely be a little closer to the 'scripting' of the game. And from there diverge... I have some ideas and things... Anyways. I hope you enjoy!

Metal clanked as a shiver ran through her. Muscles seemingly dehydrated it caused her to let a hiss of pain as echoing aching pain spread through her whole being. The room was dark, but the little light that there was seemed too great to withstand. The amber eyes squinting disdainfully into the room. Vision blurry and unreliable as she blinked with sandpaper eyelids. Tongue darting to her parched lips. Resentfully lifting her hands to try focusing upon the shackles that weighed heavy upon her, arms exhausted. Focus was slow to come to her. Mind a whirling mess.

How could one’s head feel so  _ heavy  _ and yet so fucking  _ light  _ at the same time? Yet it felt familiar. As if this wasn’t the first time consciousness seemed to rake back to the surface. 

_ Don’t do it. Don’t you fucking faint. _

Scolding herself as if that alone could keep her from falling back into the black nothing she’d just come from. It was disturbing. Not knowing how she came to be on her knees, shackled in this room. 

_ What happened. Think… _

__ Nothing came to her. Not a thing at first. Then flickers of memories. Fractured things that seemed out of order. Shuffled about. But still useless in giving her an idea of her predicament… Snow? A path? What was she doing again?

_ Andraste’s tits. Think harder Freya. _

__ Once more scolding herself.Realizing the world around her was black again. Her eyes had closed. But she was still conscious. At least - she  _ thought  _ she was. It took a force of will to have them scrape open again. Feeling so goddamn heavy. Was this some fucked up dream?

_ Focus. What were we doing? Were we alone? Were we going somewhere?  _

Sharp pain radiated in her skull. Drawing another pained hiss through her dry lips. Thundering in her head she’d still felt so disconnected from the room. From… the blurry scene. Focus not coming. The mountains. She’d come to the mountains… For...Why had she come again? 

_ Taleigha.  _

Her heart started hammering in her chest. A more panicked search into her memories. Scattered as they had been. Over a few minutes she managed to gather enough to have some measure of confidence in at least  _ some  _ of the events leading to this. Taleigha and her had been headed to the temple of sacred ashes. The mages and templars were meeting… Taleigha had convinced her to go along. That they needed to be there for the talks. That maybe there could be peace.

But though her memories seemed to settle for the most part. A large chunk was missing. Something  _ important _ . Something  _ big _ . It was damn frustrating not knowing  _ what  _ it was. Had they all been herded into a trap? Where was Taleigha? Was she okay? Had she gotten away from… whatever in the makers sweaty scrotum  _ this  _ mess was. 

A startled inhale rang crisp across the stoney room, along with what sounded like the arcing of electricity. It was sharp, painful. And just the wake up call she needed. The sight of the green light zapping across her hand was another kind of shock. 

“ **Makers balls!** ” 

Her gasping curse rasped. Trying to grip her hand. But the shackles made it an impossibility. Teeth grit. This wasn’t  _ her  _ magic. What the nug shit had they done to her? What was this strange thing on her hand? Focus seemed to return as she looked at it with a sense of betrayal. Eyes drawn quickly to the door, teeth bared, fierce as a marabi as the heavy wood crashed against the door. A taller woman walking in with a sense of purpose. Behind her a hooded woman trailed.

Pounding blood rushed in her ears. For all the bravado she pulled, refusing to cow at the dire situation she found herself in… Freya was afraid. For herself. For Taleigha. Afraid of the fact she was missing time. Missing memories. Missing little pieces of herself. 

_ Focus. _

Once more giving herself a command. The room becoming clearer. Her head pounded no less. Eyes still feeling prickly and dry. Throat parched. There had already been guards in the room she realized. Seeing the armor clad men. The one woman circled her, like a predator stalking her prey. The hooded woman stepping forward. Distracting Rey from the other for a moment. Expecting her to speak.

Instead the breath fluttered across the back of her neck and over her cheek. Causing Rey to wince away.

“ **Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now** ,” the accented voice snarled, “ **the conclave is** **_destroyed_ ** **\- everyone who attended is dead. Except for you** ” 

That sent her mind reeling. Mind grasping to try making sense of what she was saying. Immediately thinking of her friend - the people she  _ knew  _ that had attended. She… She thought they attended… Maybe she was wrong. Maybe the slivers that had come back were wrong. She could be wrong. But - what had happened?

Fucking nug shit. She  _ needed  _ to remember. Choosing to not respond. It wasn’t like she felt she could say anything in that moment. Shock was rushing through her body. A struggle to get herself centered. Reoriented. Just an expression of stubborn determined silence…

  
  


The woman continued to move around her, before reaching down, and jerking her hand up, “ **explain this** ,” came the demand. As if the brute had control over the weird magic it flared up again. Exasperated and once again in pain from the weird green lights throbbing on her hand. It was uncomfortable enough having the raw skin under shackles. 

An angry huff pushed from her lips, “ **Makers breath,** ” Rey hissed under her breath, next words an angry retort, “ **I** **_can’t_ ** **.** ” Not that she expected her to accept that. After all. Nobody believed a  _ mage _ . Right? Everyone got their knickers twisted when the mages tried to be treated humanely. If something bad happened it had to be the fucking mages. 

“ **What do you mean you** **_can’t_ ** **,** ” the woman barked back. 

“ **Of all the-** ” her jaw ticked with anger, she was getting mad. Mad at her memory - mad at being in shackles. Mad at how this woman spoke down to her. Demanding things she had no fucking clue about! “ **Exactly how it sounds you dullard! I can’t. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know what you’re even talking about. Not a damn idea how it got there... Also - rude. Never even introduced yourself. You know - that’s generally common courtesy.** ” 

Ever had there been a bad habit of using words, sarcasm, and curses - well. More so after leaving the circle. So much pain she didn’t know how to deal with it. Shoving it all down and distracting people from any cracks with her attitude. The woman lunged forward though for it, grabbing her by her robes and lifting her up. She braced. Sure she was going to earn herself a strike. 

“ **You’re lying!** ” she roared. That was when the other woman stepped forward. Clearly the cooler head in the situation. Moving to push Cassandra back. “ **We need her Cassandra.** ” Her voice was stressing the point. But it still felt calm. 

She winced as her knees struck the stones again after Cassandra had let her go. Cursing under her breath. Looking around, not seeing exactly how it was she was going to get herself out of this mess. She’d been through so much. There was no way this was how it was going to end. Makers ass her head hurt. Everything hurt. Well. At least she knew the angry womans name. Cassandra. 

But she wouldn’t let them know how shaken she really was. “ **So** ,” almost sounding casual, though there was still the dry rasp to her tone, and despite all her wanting to sound flippant even… There was a slight tremor underlining the words, “ **what happens now?** ”

Cassandra loomed behind the hooded woman. Eyes glaring daggers at Rey. “ **Do you remember what happened? How this began?** ” There was authority, strength in the words. But it wasn’t the accusing anger like Cassandra. Nug shit - she truly wished she did. At least she’d understand how she had ended up  _ here _ . And Makers  _ cock -  _ what the fuck even had began? They had already been at war. 

She tried to focus. Pushing herself to try and remember something new. Anything. Wincing as she ground her teeth. Brow furrowing with the concentration. Flashes… that didn’t make any sense at all. “ **I… was running and…** ” the sounds she could remember caused a shiver up her spine. But she couldn’t properly remember what it was she was running from - “ **things were… chasing me… And then..** ”

And then what? It felt as if she was raking her mind through hot coals to remember more… A woman? A light? A woman of light? She couldn’t be sure… “ **A woman?** ” 

“ **A woman?** ” - echoed by the one Rey still didn’t know the name of. 

A crease remained between Rey’s brows, “ **She… reached out to me… But then...** ” was this just a fucked dream she had? Or was this actually part of what happened… Cause it sure as hell didn’t look like the temple… It … looked weird. Everything bathed in a strange green glow… 

_ Green like the magic on her hand…  _

The woman was stepping back, the other moving forward, speaking again. Considerably calmer, even sounding a bit… tired. “ **Go to the forward camp Leliana.** ” There it was. The other one’s name. Her skull was throbbing.. 

“ **Nug piss,** ” she rasped to herself. Wishing she could will away the headache. And the urge to vomit that knotted in her stomach. 

  
  


“ **I will take her to the rift.** ” 

That pulled her attention back to Cassandra. Rift? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Still reeling from everything. Still not  _ grounded _ . Still missing pieces. Everyone was dead… everyone but her… What had happened up on the mountains. What had happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes? 

So lost in her thoughts once more she almost missed the shackles being removed. Looking towards Cassandra. Her bravado slipping a moment, looking vulnerable and lacking the piss and vinegar she had a moment before… “ **What** **_did_ ** **happen?** ” she inquired weakly. Not really sure she wanted to know. Not sure she was ready. Not sure she wanted to consider that she survived where once again someone she loved and care for fell. There wasn’t time right now to grieve. She wasn’t ready. But a part of her really did need to know. Despite that pit twisting in her stomach. 

She hadn’t expected Cassandra to help her stand. And Rey would be lying if she said she didn’t need it. The world twisted about her as she acclimated to being on her feet again. Her bruised knees complained as they rubbed against the leather. Rubbing her wrists. Having only a moment of freedom from constraints it would seem.

Cassandra didn’t seem to know how to answer. She could see her mind work, as if searching for an answer. “ **It…** ” pausing a moment, finishing up tying Rey’s wrists, “ **will be easier to show you…** ”

Huffing lightly, but slouching after Cassandra. If Freya was going to get out alive… Trying to run for it now would be stupid. She had to be smart. Well. Thinking coherently would be appreciated as well.. 

Looking around she didn’t see anything at first. But there was a sound to her left. Far off. The sky… Eyes moving to find this noise - squinting against the unwelcome brightness. Jaw dropping, eyes going wide. The sky… What in Andraste’s tits was that? It was terrifying. This was beyond a war between mages and templars.. . Makers cock… The sky was ripped open! 

“ **We call it the breech-** ” that word sounded so inadequate for strange nightmare they were looking at, “ **It’s a massive rift into the world of demons and grows larger with each passing hour…** ” she shuddered. She could recall her harrowing. The fade hadn’t been pleasant.  _ Demons  _ never were a been pleasant thing to deal with. “It’s not the only such rift,” Cassandra considered, “ **just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave.** ” 

That… didn’t make sense. “ **An explosion can do that…** ” disbelief in her voice. You could explode the shit out of things. But it generally didn’t rip holes into the fade.

“ **This one did. Unless we act, the breech may grow until it swallows the world** ” 

Ah yes. That  _ would  _ be bad. That would be very fucking bad. Even if she escaped now - how many breeches had been opened? How far had they spread - would they - as Cassandra predicted - swallow the whole damn world? That would be … concerning obviously. Concerning since she was one of the fuckers that  _ lived  _ in this world… 

Once more the magic flared. The shooting pain caused her to cry out once more, bringing her to her knees. Sharp inhales. Gasping. Gripping her hand. Unsettled to realize that the… green magic… it seemed to consume more of her hand. It took everything in her not to completely lose her shit and panic. 

Tongue feeling like lead in her mouth she didn’t say anything further as she rock a moment before Cassandra stooped down once more. Her words passionate. As if she was desperate to convey the dire situation they were in. As if a hole in the sky didn’t do that… 

“ **Each time the breech expands - your mark spreads,** ” Well fuck, that wasn’t good. This breech needed to stop. Rather… she needed to wake up. Maybe this was a bad dream? Maybe she’d just fell and scrambled her brains a bit? “ **-And it is killing you.** ”

A million questions ran through her head. How did Cassandra know this. But in reality… The glowy thing on her hand didn’t tickle. And deep down… She knew. Knew that Cassandra was correct. It had been a long time since she’d felt so small and helpless. 

“ **It may be the key to stopping this,** ” - it sounded like she was trying to sell her something. As if the woman hadn’t had her in chains. Hadn’t been threatening her. If only the damn woman would just spit whatever she was trying to say out. “ **But there isn’t much time.** ”

Despite the threats, Cassandra hadn’t killed her - or had her goonies kill her. There had to be a reason they were keeping her alive. “ **What do you** **_mean_ ** **it could be the key to stopping this?** ”

Freya needed more  _ information _ . She also needed a drink. But wasn’t exactly sure Cassandra would be as receptive to that request. People like her cared about what they could get. 

Taleigha would often chide her for her bitter view of people. Tell her not everyone was out to get them. She knew it. Really. Frey knew. But knowing and believing sometimes didn’t come hand in hand. Too many bad things happened. So much doubt in people. In their intentions. 

“ **Closing the breach,** ” Freya looked doubtful at her hand. It looked so… normal at the moment. A little worse for wear. But that was because of the dirt and blood on it. “ **Whether that is something possible is something we’ll discover shortly..** ” 

Ah. There it was. How… How could she close that huge hole in the sky? How could she survive it? Too many questions. Not enough answers. 

“ **It is our only chance however...** “ Our. Freya doubted Cassandra really cared what ended up happening to her - so long as the rift was closed. Mages were expendable to most people. Most feathered over and failed to talk about the mages that died protecting them in times of war. A foot note… After thought. Second class citizens. “ **And yours.** ”

She had to be smart about this. Maybe… think a little more carefully about how she was speaking with Cassandra. After all. Dying was bad. Rey very much would like to survive these events. Though it was hard to bite back her sarcasm - and in all honesty she did fail as she spoke again, “ **you still think I’m guilty of this cock up? That I made a gaping hole in the sky? That I’d do this to myself?** ” A little bitterness entering her voice as she jerked her hand up, the other following due to the ties. Fucking ropes.

“ **Not on purpose. Obviously.** ” that was all that she offered. Well. At least she was honest in her thoughts? Still had Rey huffing and deadpanning Cassandra. Taking a moment to answer. Biting her tongue and the retort that begged to snap back at the other woman. Instead she took a deep breath. Sounding a bit like she was choking on her words. “ **I understand.** ”

Cassandra didn’t seem like she was expecting that reply. Not that Rey could blame the woman in the few sentences they had shared. “ **Then…** ”

Another breath, “ **I’ll do what I can-** ” she paused before adding in “ **whatever it takes.** ” But. You know. Whatever it takes - Short of dying. She wasn’t okay with the dying thing. Cassandra seemed to be reassessing her. Reconsidering perhaps. Cassandra nodded before rising, pulling Rey up with her.

_ Once again the maker spreads my cheeks... _

  
  



	3. The Ascent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey continues, and some new faces are introduced along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who are taking time to read this! I had the first three chapters written up already. Now this means I have to go off and finish chapter four!
> 
> Also all the images so far in these first three chapters are just screenshots I took during my own playthrough.

Weakness wasn’t what Freya wanted to show Cassandra. She’d fought against her exhaustion. Against the pain in her body, and the desperate desire to drink something refreshing. She felt positively like a dehydrated fruit. Most inconvenient while tracking up toward the thing that Rey very much  _ didn’t  _ want to get closer too. 

Maybe she’d get there and they’d realize she wasn’t the lone survivor. After all. She hadn’t accepted that. There was a lot that was just - well. It was very hard to accept. Accepting it would mean that she once again was completely alone in the world… Every time. Every time she let someone close…

Pushing the thoughts from her mind with a shiver. Her clothes hardly did anything anymore to protect her from the cold. At least her hands no longer had been tied. Once they cleared the people Cassandra had surprised her by cutting the ropes.

Apparently her confidence in untying her own knots had been lacking. Or maybe she was impatient like Rey?

Whatever the reason it didn’t matter much. They had gotten part way up when once more a flash of green brought her to her knees. The odd magic was creeping past her wrist and she really didn’t like that. Didn’t appreciate how weak it made her look as once again Cassandra had to stoop down and help her up. 

“ **The pulses are coming faster now. The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face** .” So matter of fact. 

“ **How - how did I survive?** ” maybe she knew more than she’d told her as of yet.

“ **They said you… stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious. They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was. Everything farther in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I suppose you’ll see soon enough.** ”

_ Out of a rift?  _

_ Makers cock _ . Had she… Had she  _ physically  _ been in the fade? That didn’t seem like it would be a good thing. She wanted to be sure she’d know if she had been possessed - but what… What if she didn’t? What if something had come back with her. Maybe that was why she couldn’t remember -  _ something  _ else was in charge? 

For the moment Rey didn’t press for more. Cassandra seemed content to continue on in silence. Stride purposeful and the mage would have hated to admit… it was difficult for her to keep up. Her lungs burned. Ached, Complained with each inhale and exhale. 

She tried not to look at the corpses along the way. Or listen to the panicked voices of soldiers that passed on the paths. After all - Freya was afraid enough as it was. Just trying to keep her wits about her. Hard enough to convince herself this may be the only way to save herself. Not that she expected getting a trail at the end would save her. But - it might give her time to get out. If this worked it might - just might save her as well. Make them thankful enough to keep her alive. Though if it was tranquility or death - she’d let go of her pride and beg for death. 

The cold stone bride loomed before them. Another shiver from the relentless cold. Jaw working as they started across. Each time a piece of the green magic hurled and landed it made her flinch. One had slammed into the earth not to far from the bridge. Both women looking over as they stumbled. Flinching. Gasp pulling from the mage as another meteor slammed into the bridge. The women both thrust forwards.

The pain of tumbling on falling stones - and others falling on her. Her already bruised and battered body screamed as she grit her teeth once she slammed and tumbled to the earth again. Desperately trying to get air back into her lungs. 

Gasping breath in - voice strangled - “ **makers balls** ” - breathless. 

Everything hurt so damn much. Her mind screamed at her -  _ we’re dying _ ! 

_ Breath.  _

_ Just breath... _

On all fours she vomited from the intensity of the pain. Barely having time to struggling back as she saw the earth starting to warp far too close for her liking. Cassandra drawing her sword as the shade demon manifested from the ground. Unarmed she felt naked and exposed. Not a feeling she ever appreciated. 

“ **Stay behind me!** ” - the dark haired woman charged the demon as the shield also was lifted from her back. No hesitation…

Then a sick realization hit her. The ground was shifting. Bubbling. Vomiting out another shade. Leaving her heart hammering in her chest as she. Amber eyes looking around wildly for something  _ \- anything _ . That was when she saw it. A staff amidst the rubble. Rey just had to get to it.

Unfortunately the shade was upon her before she could. A glint of steel had her grabbing and slicing her palm on the dagger as she desperately twisted. Adrenaline allowing her to ignore the agony each movement truly caused her. Finding luck on her side as the dagger pierced the demon, using her weight to drag it down. 

It was enough to slow the thing. Slow it enough as she grabbed the staff. 

The whispers of claws dragged over her shoulder. Cutting through the fabric. It didn’t take long to feel the wetness of blood dripping down her back. But there was no time to think. As if by pure instinct she twisted hands raised. Mentally willing the magic to flow through her and hit the demon.

Usually - her magic wasn’t much to bat an eyelash at. Without a staff that lack of something to focus it into…

But electricity pulsed from her hands. The force of the cast ripping the demon apart. Perhaps it was simply the need to preserve her own life… 

Stumbling. Panting. Surprised. But alive. Limping to the staff she grabbed it - seeing Cassandra still fighting. Impressively. She could escape - slink bleeding into the snowy mountains. But instead she slammed the staff to the ground. A fireball erupting against the demon as Cassandra’s sword pierced the thing. Leaving it to melt back into the ground. Rasping breaths. Closing her eyes a moment before walking towards Cassandra. 

She didn’t put her weapon away. Instead the sword was ready as the woman angrily looked towards her. “ **Drop your weapon.** **_Now_ ** **.** ”

For the… “ **Andraste’s fucking tits.** ” she cursed vehemently, not seeming to earn any favor from Cassandra with it, “ **A demon attacked me. What was I supposed to do?** ” changing her voice to a mocking tone of her own, thickening her accent - ” **Oh hi there mister demon. I’d appreciate it if you kindly didn’t kill me. You see - I’m in time out and I am grounded from using a staff.** ”

“ **You don’t** **_need_ ** **to fight,** ” came the angry rebuff from the warrior. 

Maybe she should have been calmer herself. But her control was wearing thin. And she felt the end of her wits. “ **Are you saying it won’t happen again?** ” Rey snapped, gripping the staff. It felt heavy in her weary arms. But she had more confidence in being able to protect herself this way. She couldn’t rely on a maybe with getting lucky with flailing her hands around. 

Expecting to have to fight Cassandra. After all. Warriors such as her - in Rey’s experience - didn’t take kindly to being called out in any way like that. Even if it was for a valid reason. Like not wanting to fucking die. 

“ **You’re right.** ”

Surprise flickered over Rey’s features.

“ **I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless.** ” moving to put her weapon away. Sighing. It was truly the last thing Rey expected, “ **I should remember that you agreed to come willingly.** ” It took a moment. But Rey left her own defensive stance. Knuckles white from the desperate grip she held to the staff.

Wounded as she was, Rey refused to complain. Why waste the words? She still could fight. Rey nodded in an almost reluctant appreciation. “ **Where are all your soldiers?** ”

“ **At the forward camp, or fighting. We are on our own, for now.** ”

Once more Rey nodded to Cassandra before they had set out once more. More demons would stand between them and Cassandra’s soldiers. But they both seemed to work rather well with keeping each other from the whole being killed by demons thing. 

“ **We’re getting close to the rift. You can hear the fighting.** ” Relief was clear in Cassandra’s voice. 

“ **Who’s fighting?** ” - for Rey she was asking for the sake of templars, mages? Who was fighting for her captors.

Instead she got a simple “ **You’ll see soon. We must help them** ” from the other woman. 

Finally past the carcass of another burning bridge (and luckily on the same side of the bridge as them) - a group came into view. Fighting demons under a smaller tear. A rift. There was no time to really think. Rey leapt to action. Helping to deal with the demons. 

Nearly blasting the one that grabbed her hand after the last one fell, “ **Quickly, before more come through!** ” 

The Elvhen male thrust her hand towards the sky. Her hand once again was consumed in the emerald dance of whatever she was…  _ infected  _ with. It arked and connected to the rift. But for whatever reason.. This time it didn’t hurt so badly as when the breach grew. It didn’t tickle… but it wasn’t agony. It was more like pins and needles. The arks intensified and finally seemed to implode with a pop. The rift was gone. “ **What did you do?** ”

“ **_I_ ** **did nothing. The credit is yours.** ” - the other mage spoke.

Lifting her hand she examined it. The treacherous thing… But at least it was useful. “ **You mean this?** ” At least it seemed to be a reason for these people to keep her alive for the time. 

“ **Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake – and it seems I was correct.** ” This bald man seemed to know more than Cassandra regarding the weird thing on her hand…

“ **Meaning it could also close the Breach itself.** ” something likened to hope seemed to rise in Cassandra's voice. 

Amber eyes watching the two. “ **Possibly.** ” Solas didn’t seem to be speaking from a place of fear, or doubt. Just stating the reality of it. “ **It seems you hold the key to our salvation.** ”

Really she couldn’t help herself as the laugh left her chest. Their salvation. She wasn’t some…  _ Hero _ . She was a survivor! Just wanting to live her life far away from shit like this. Far away from demons. 

“ **Good to know! Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.** ” One of the others spoke. The dwarf thankfully took Cassandra's glare off of her for the moment. The rugged dwarf stepped towards her. “ **Varric Tethras. Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong.** ” He winked towards Cassandra at that. Rey caught the snarling lip from the woman. She couldn’t help but allow one of the corners of her own mouth twitch at that. Seemed Cassandras ire wasn’t just directed at her at least.

“  **I’m Freya… Are you with the Chantry, or…?** ”

Solas laughed at Rey’s question, “ **Was that a serious question?** ”

Shrugging, “ **they’ll take anyone from what I’ve seen.** ”

“ **Technically I’m a prisoner, just like you.** ” Varric gave her a charming smile, not seeming distraught at the fact. 

“ **I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine. Clearly that is no longer necessary.** “ Cassandra barked at Varric. 

“ **Yet, here I am. Lucky for you, considering current events.** ” he mused back. She hadn’t spent much time with many dwarves… But Rey had the thought she might just get along with this Varric. 

“ **It’s good to meet you, Varric.** ” Rey leaned her newly acquired staff against her aching body, pushing an irritating tuft of copper hair from her eyes. Tucking it behind her ear. She felt like shit. But she might have just meant what she said.

Solas smirked, “ **you may reconsider that stance, in time.** ” 

Varric turned and feigned hurt for a moment, “ **Aww. I’m sure we’ll become great friends in the valley, Solas.** ”

“ **Absolutely not. Your help is appreciated, Varric, but…** ” Cassandra seemed to be dismissing the dwarf. 

But Varric was quick to jump back into the conversation, not seeming to be looking for a way out, “ **Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.** ”

A disgusted noise left Cassandra’s throat. But she didn’t add anything further. Seeming to resign to the fact Varric was coming. But not wanting to admit out loud she just might need the dwarf around. 

“ **My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I’m pleased to see you still live.** ” 

“ **You know, I’m rather pleased I still live as well.** ” She couldn’t help herself. 

“ **He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.** '” Varric added in, the sound of amusement clear in his course voice. 

“ **Oh… Well. Then in that case...** ” she didn’t like feeling like she owed the stranger, but if he’d saved her, she truly did owe a debt, “ **I should give you my thanks. I very much like being not dead.** ”

Cassandra’s voice once more could be heard, “ **Solas is an apostate.** ”

“ **Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra. My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed regardless of origin.** ” There it was again. The factly tone of the Elvhen gave him an ageless feeling. Something felt old. Laden with knowledge.

Solas was here by choice it would seem. Unlike Varric and Freya. Swirling amber eyes fixed on Solas - “ **And when this is over?** ”

“ **One hopes that those in power will remember who helped, and who did not.** ” For someone who seemed to know so much, wisened and all… She was a bit surprised he’d put his faith in something like that. What she had learned in the world… People only remembered what others had done for them when it suited them. 

“ **Well then. I can’t close the Breach if I’m dead,** ” she pipped in, as if a suggestion to keep moving. 

“ **That is most certainly true.** ” Solas spoke once again. “ **Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have ever seen. Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power.** ”

“ **Understood. We must get to the forward camp quickly.** ” And hopefully propelling them onwards to a future where Rey could actually survive this…

“ **Well, Bianca’s excited!** ” Varric grinned.

Rey lifted a brow, but didn’t question further for the moment. After all. She wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to push past the pain…

  
  


\------ _ Forward Camp _ \------

Exhaustion felt deep in her weary bones by the time they reached the forward camp. More demons. Another rift. She was ready for this to be over. Or to wake up. She still held up hope she was just having one fucking wild bad dream. 

Weary as they broke into a -  _ disagreement  _ with the Chantry brother, Roderick. Rey was at her wits end and completely tired of everything. She needed to get to the damn breach. At least Cassandra wasn’t listening to the demand for her to be put back in shackles. 

“ **Isn’t closing the Breach the more pressing issue?** ” She didn’t want to be in the middle of everything, but Makers  _ balls _ . She had eyes enough to see she had to do something. 

“ **_You_ ** **brought this on us in the first place!** ” the man snarled back. Chancellor Roderick as Leliana had called him. 

“ **Makers cock - you blighted fool, I haven’t the slightest clue about all this nug shit! It seems I’m in the dark more than you,** ” she snarled back. A fire of rage blazing in the amber of her eyes. Surely looking like quite the image. The mess of red hair, firey eyes of honey and chocolate. Jaw working. Blood and dirt over her. Clothes torn. Bruises coloring her flesh. Ready to lose all hell it would seem. Rather in the mood to unleash a endless stream of fucking curses. She really would like to punch his pompous face…

The man had grown red with rage. She expected him to scream back at her, but instead he turned to Cassandra. Desperation in his voice. Imploring. “ **Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless.** ” 

Cassandra shook her head, determined still. “ **We can stop this before it’s too late.** ” Insisting. As if she could speak it into existence. If only she could.

“ **How? You won’t survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers.** ” Roderick was not a believer, his faith clearly wasn’t in Cassandra. 

Then it started a short argument about the path to take. A possibly safer mountain pass. Or to charge. They bickered for a moment Cassandra turned back to Freya. “ **How do** **_you_ ** **think we should proceed?** ”

Shocked silence for a moment. “ **Now you’re asking me what** **_I_ ** **think?** ” the incredulous words tumbled from her. 

“ **You have the mark.** ” Solas offered.

“ **And you are the one we must keep alive. Since we cannot agree on our own…** ” Cassandra sighed. 

Rey ruminate over the options for only a moment. Looking too her hand. She didn’t know if she’d make it the longer route. Determination rising as she looked back to the group. “ **I say we charge. I won’t survive long enough for your trial. Whatever happens, happens now.** ”

And again the group moved on. Passing more soldiers. More dead. Nearing the temple. A small camp was stationed. Another meteor collided with the earth. A man killed. He didn’t have time for anything but a strangled cry. 

A shaky breath through tired lungs before she rushed the stairs… Broken earth jutting around. Another rift. More fighting. 

Cassandra called out once the demons had been cleared, “ **Quickly, then!** ”

Right that was her queue. Hand reaching out, an ark of green. Sizzling. Pop. Another rift closed. She stumbled slightly. Righting herself. Though much of her wanted to collapse to the ground. Close her eyes. 

_ Don’t stop.  _

She implored herself. This would not be how it all ended. 

“ **Sealed, as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this.** ” Praised the Elvehn mage. All she could do as she caught her breath was nod. He knew well as her it seemed in that look that the fumes she was running on where running low.

Varric looked towards the ugly tear in the sky. “ **Let’s hope it works on the big one.** ”

Freya didn’t looked at the fair haired soldier that jogged over. One of the men whom had been fighting the demons before they had arrived. He was handsome - she could note that despite being disheveled and covered in the grime of battle. But Rey was weary. 

“ **Lady Cassandra, you managed to close the rift? Well done.** ” The stranger praised, eyes appraising the warrior woman. Something in the back of her mind telling her she most likely wouldn’t want his attention drawn to herself. Rey held her tongue.

“ **Do not congratulate me, Commander. This is the prisoner’s doing.** ”

_ Just had to take the time to remind me I’m a prisoner. Great. _

Rey cursed under her breath as she looked to this ‘commander’. “ **Is it?** ” at first there was a bit of surprise in his voice - examining Freya, and she was certain of the disappointment that bloomed in them, and dare she say disgust upon the sight of the staff, “ **I hope they’re right about you. We’ve lost a lot of people getting you here.** ”

_ People _ . 

Rey thought bitterly.

_ Not mages. Maker forbid anyone see mages as people. _

Now wasn’t the time for a battle of world views though. If there was to be a world. Here helping them and something to be treated less than. A pang in her chest. Looking away. Pursing her lips - “ **I - You’re not the only hoping that.** ” Perhaps to much revealed in the raw despair that leaked into her voice. 

Could she do this? If she could - was this her last day? To be a prisoner. Surrounded by strangers? A number of whom most likely despised her. 

“ **We’ll see soon enough, won’t we.** ” Clipped and directed to Freya. She could feel it. The next words to Cassandra it would seem. “ **The way to the temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet you there.** ”

“ **Then we’d best move quickly. Give us time, Commander.** ” 

The Commander nodded, a fire in his eyes, meeting Cassandra’s - “ **Maker watch over you – for all our sakes** ”

With that he left them. Jogging to a wounded man and helping him towards the camp to be treated. Funny how easy it was to help one, and condemn another, wasn’t it?

“ **Right. Let’s get going** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won’t have ALL the scenes from the VG in here. I am just using it as a starting point. Obviously major missions will get more reference. But I’ll be exploring more the ‘in between’ once we get back to Haven! Also clearly I was tired of the track to the temple because I was up for 24 hours and ran out of steam lol
> 
> Once again, I appreciate anyone taking time to read! If you have time to drop a note or thoughts that also would be appreciated!


	4. Tranquil Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This finishes off the Temple of Sacred Ashes at the beginning and brings us around back to Haven! It does have a flash of her past as well.

_Dead -_ so _many_ dead. Cadaverous forms burnt and burning littered the way. Haunting realities of what had occurred. So many lives lost. Templars and mages both. The gravity of the macabre scene was enough to make the young mage with the magic hand feel so incredibly small. Sobering her to what truly was at stake. 

The jagged maw of rock around them throbbed lights of green. Areas of it baring teeth of red. The strangest looking lyrium… Reaching a hand to dance along the odd substance as if tranced - Freya was startled as a hand grabbed her own down with a desperate jerk. 

“ **It’s evil. Whatever you do -** **_don’t_ ** **touch it.!** ” - it was Varric. It unsettled her further as she heard a cadence of fear in his words. Gone was the confident bluster in his voice. Freya stepped away from it. Varric looked to the Seeker - “ **what’s it** **_doing_ ** **here**?” 

Solas was the one to answer though, “ **Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple, corrupted it…** ”

Freya had known nothing of ‘red lyrium’. Perhaps under different circumstances she’d have inquired further. But now was not the time. There _was_ no time. 

“ **Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice.** ” - a voice boomed. Unknown. Menacing. Freya looked around as if her mind refused to accept this voice came from the void above them. 

Unnerved as well, Cassandra spoke what everyone was thinking, “ **What are we hearing?** ” Her voice wavered.

Once more the Elvhen mage spoke, “ **At a guess: The person who created the Breach.** ”

Amber eyes glare at the breach, not appreciating the strange sense of dejavu. As if she’d heard it before. But she couldn’t remember how. When. Could this be an echo of her forgotten time?

“ **Keep the sacrifice still**.” - that voice once more echoed through the ruins. 

She froze as another voice called out, “ **Someone help me!** ” 

Yet another voice. Freya didn’t remember it… but part of her felt the… familiarity of it. Standing at the edge of the ruined stairs, peering down. Destruction all around. But this area was relatively clear. Safe to drop down from the edge into the cavernous valley of what used to be the temple.

Towering. Lofty. The rift twisted above. How could she close it? How could anyone reach it? Flashes of a memory - _her_ memory. Yet it was as familiar to her as a griffon. It glared at her with recognition, and Freya looking at a vision of herself like it was a stranger. No recognition of the events sparked in her.

Mage or not - looking into the mocking green glow Rey understood this was beyond mages and templars. This was a threat to all of Thedas. And these people she barely just met looked at her to rise. For her to thrust her hand to the sky and protect them from this great unknown. 

But she wasn’t a hero - she’d never call herself one. She was simply a mage that wanted to live her life free. Live her life in at least a relative state of peace. Unnerving - that was what it was. So many people relied on Freya in that moment to be something she wasn’t. Their savior. If she failed… No doubt they’d just continue to paint her a villain. Though if she died - it wasn’t as if that would matter much.

“ **This rift is not sealed, but it is closed… albeit temporarily. I believe with the mark, the rift can be opened and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side.** ”

_Makers balls_ , Gripping the staff in her fist, she wasn’t ready for this _._ Could she _ever_ be ready for this? 

“ **That means demons. Stand ready!** ”

A massive demon of pride had been the first to break through once she’d opened the breach. Other demons slouching through with violent intent. Leaving a number of them worse for wear. But giving up was not a viable option. So all fought on. Regardless of side prior to the conclave. And despite her injuries - Rey fought back ruthlessly. Fueled by the raw instinct to survive. 

The pride demon fell. A heavy feeling that grip her core, blood and ichor stained flesh and cloth. Now was the time. The grand attempt to fix all the madness that had started. But as the mage thrust her hand skyward, a hoarse yell of her own as she focused the full might of the mark - she didn’t know if it was possible to come out of this alive. 

It was deafening as it roared around her. A storm of green. 

Every moment the rift was fought - pushing all that power into it… For herself Freya could feel all her strength fading. Lungs panicked, burning… Incapable of filling fully. Her all to human body feeling as if it was shrinking around her organs as she fought to close the great tear in the sky. Tremors racking every muscle. All eyes set upon her. Hand moving with the turbulence of the powers grand ark. 

It was killing her. She was dying. Freya was positive of it. Now was the time to push harder despite this. Be the sacrificial lamb. Or hold back. Stop now and possibly doom them all - or give all. Fall with enemies all around her. People who would not mourn the loss of a mage.

At that moment - what choice would be made was unclear. Right up until the end. Stumbling as she pushed everything she had. The ground shook. The explosion was thunderous as the mage crumpled to the ground…

_She had nothing left to give._

  
  
  


\-------------

  
  
  


Freya’s breath hitched in her throat as she saw the two girls. The little girl Taleigha who was two years younger. And Maryana, her elder sister. She was a year Freya’s senior. It was Maryana who looked the worse of the two. Both the other girls had tears staining their cheeks, eyes red and puffy. Blood trickled down Maryana’s split lip, as well as from the break of flesh of her left eyebrow. A bruise ripened her cheek. Her busted bottom lip trembling as she choked on sobs. Freya wanted to look away. But she couldn’t. Neither could Maryana’s little sister. It was beyond cruel to make the other girl bare witness to her own sisters abuse.

A strangled noise of sorrow left her as she looked upon her fellow mage. She was beaten and bruised and even before anyone spoke Freya knew it was completely, and utterly her own fault the other girl was in such a state. Because of her. Because of her foolish, selfish actions that the other girl was bleeding and bruised before her. Her own damn fault that the little girl was there to see it all. 

She’d kept her distance from the other mages. Avoided them and pushed them away. But it mattered not to the knight commander. Because he knew her. He understood the reason she was so alone in the tower was not so much for her own protection - but those around her. Push them away as she might - still moments of compassion betrayed her. 

Taleigha didn’t deserve this. Maryana didn’t either. They’d done nothing to inspire the ire from the templar. Both such gentle souls. To good for this wicked world. Much too good for this vile mistreatment. All these years of her own abuse - it still shook her to the core to be reminded of the Knight Commanders violence. She’d done this. She’d caused this. 

Because she was too selfish to endure another day. She’d run. Freya had run from the circle and hoped never to see the place again. All that Freya had thought of was herself. Not what would happen to anyone else if she did flee. Selfish. 

_I deserve it - I should have taken that punishment._ \- the thought slammed into her.

She was no hero. Self serving and such disregard for the safety of the others. If only she’d accepted her own role. The position she’d been forced into. Indulged the knight commanders obsession without fight. Then neither of these girls would be here like this. 

“ **I’m sorry. I’m so** **_so_ ** **sorry… Maryana - Forgive me,** ” - she didn’t deserve it. Truly Freya _believed_ that. But still she begged the others as she looked into Maryana’s eyes. The other mage looked at her with weeping eyes. Not a word was spoken…

A gasp was wretched from her lips as a hand ensnared her hair and pulled her back in a sharp, merciless movement. “ **Watch what happens when you defy me - when you do silly things like run away,** ” the knight commander's voice snarled quietly in her ear. Filled with cruel pleasure. He was _enjoying_ this. 

Glassy eyes still meeting Maryana. Those haunted eyes of hers. Tormented by all that she’d endured in Freya’s stead… “ **Please - you know it’s my fault alone. I alone ran. They did… they did nothing,** ” no bravado was in her words, a quiet pleading. Barely a whisper but wrought with guilt. 

She couldn’t see the nod from the knight commander. Giving his silent order to the other Templars in the room. His most trusted under his command. Ghouls that would do what their knight commander asked. No questions. No judgement.

As he moved she realized what it was that was about to happen. Startled by a loud scream “ **No! No! No! SHE’S INNOCENT,** ” Freya almost couldn’t recognize her own voice as it burst from her in a shocked, desperate plea. Her mind reeled and her stomach knotted. The burn of bile at the back of her throat. 

_They were going to brand her - they were making Maryana tranquil!_

She fought against the knight commander. Struggled to free herself. Struggled to get to the other woman as she wailed. Held down and helpless. Having endured so much already. Worst was the crescendo of sobs coming from her little sister… 

Freya tried to look away as the other screamed as the rite was started, feeling faint - like she would vomit. But the commander jerked her head again, other hand snaking around to grip her jaw, forcing her to keep facing the scene before her. Her own pleading and wails had disintegrated into nonsense noises. No longer words. Watching the terror of the other. Knowing that the fate she was being handed was one worse than death.

Knowing that it should be her - if anyone should have been punished in any way - _it was supposed to be her._ Voiceless and hoarse by the end, she looked in a state of shock and abject horror as the other girl appeared undisturbed… appeared… not anything. Her sister crying as Maryana was taken out. 

“ **You try anything this stupid again, little Rey of sunshine -** ” she could hear the pleasure in his voice as he spoke his threats as if they where harmless, sweet nothings, “ **her sister is next.** ”

_Freya was no hero - she was a monster._

The knight commander thrust her forward with a commendable force. The wall of stone rushed towards her face.

  
  
  


\--------------

  
  
  


Gasping, greedily gulping air as she sat with a start. Her chest heaving, stomach twisting. Limbs felt tangled as the mage fought herself free from the bedsheets and hit the floor with a thump. Retreating from it as if burned. Eyes darting around the room. Barely managing to make it to an empty bucket in the corner of the room. The contents of her stomach violently spewing forth. Retching for what felt like hours. Even when there was nothing left in her. Throat burning from the acidic bite of bile - sides aching from the force of the heaving. 

Rocking while her arms wrap about herself, taking short breaths in gingerly. Body covered in a cold, clammy sweat. Muscles contracted in sharp shudders. The bitter taste of vomit coating her mouth.

Her lips remained parted as she took her painful pants of air. Finally pushing herself back from the bucket, closing her eyes as she scooted back against the bed. Her head was splitting. Confusion clouding her still. “ **Andrastes** **_tits_ **,”she rasped. Mind reaching for an idea of where she was. Squinting in the dim wooden room… 

Stone and chains - she recalled where she’d woken up last time. Had it just been a terrible night terror? The scarred mountain and the torn sky? The explosion at the conclave? It was as if she was hit with a brick as the memories flooded back. The events of that day. And seemed to manage to recall even more from the time leading up to the conclave. 

A flash of Taleigha’s smile, eyes wide as they approached the Temple of Sacred ashes…

  
“ **_Oh! Oh Rey just LOOK at this place? Isn’t that just… Grand?_ ** _” -_ the girl had twirled in spot as she looked around the scenery. Ecstatic to be there. Hopeful for what it could mean for them. They could stop running perhaps. That was what Tali had gone on for hours about. She’d done that the whole journey to the conclave. Nervously spouted her hopes. Silly daydreams of what could happen if everything worked out for them. Freya had never had faith in the conclave. Hoped that it would prove her wrong perhaps… But her faith in people was rather dismal next to the bright innocent joy of Taleigha. 

Freya had looked out for herself since the fall of the circle - but she’d also found Taleigha as she’d fled. It was Tali that had helped her when infection had set into the wounds on her neck. And after that she’d looked out for Tali. The guilt was still eating her up. Knowing she was unable to save Maryana - she’d at least wanted to save Taleigha. Not that she was that little girl anymore. 

Now seventeen. The saving grace and the only reason that Rey had started to travel with others. For Taleigha. Even made some friends. And together they’d come… Together they’d all gone to the temple of Sacred Ashes…

“ ** _Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now._** **_The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you._** ” 

Cassandra's words echoed in her mind. 

_Everyone who attended was dead_...

There had been no time to dwell too long on it before while fighting their way up to the mountain. The shock of it before - Freya had refused to process it. To actually indulge the idea that she had once again failed someone. Once again had been unable to protect the innocent…

_Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you._

Grief and guilt coiled a ruthless grip around her heart and squeezed. Had she been standing, the depth of her grief would have brought her to her knees. If anyone had deserved to survive whatever the fuck happened at the temple it wasn’t her. Freya didn’t deserve it. Tali would have been more deserving. 

She should have known! Should have known that something bad would happen. Rather - she should have convinced Taleigha not to go! A single sob of grief shook her before the door opened. Had it not surprised her into a place she was able to swallow her sorrows, Freya would have dissolved into a puddle of tears… 

The elven woman moved in, surprise widening her eyes as she dropped the box she carried, “ **Oh! I didn’t know you were awake, I swear!** ”

Freya slid the back of her hand over her cheek. Wiping away tears. Trying to regain herself further. Having been teetering on the edge of a catastrophic breakdown. But if there was anything she’d learned in life - it was to not deal with her pain. Push it down and let it fester out of view. Still her voice was throaty and hoarse, “ **don’t worry about it,** ” moving shakily to her feet. Eying the door behind the stranger. Wondering if she should try to escape now… “ **so… is this Is this another prison?”** forcing further down the storm of emotions that threatened to choke her, **“an upgrade really if it is… Fancy prison for the lady with the glowy hand** ”

As if rambling covered the fact she’d been about to break into a chorus of sobs as this woman came into the room. Though genuine surprise and shock filled her when she fell to her knees “ **I beg your forgiveness and your blessing. I am but a humble servant. You’re back in Haven , my lady. They say you saved us. The breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand. It’s all anyone has talked about for the last three days!** ”

“ **I’m not - wait... what?** ” came the startled retort, before she found a more sensible assortment of words - barely it would seem, “ **Well, Makers hairy asshole… I guess it’s good it stopped growing… So a trial happens now, I suppose.** ”

The change from sorrow to an almost easy, careless attitude seemed to have the woman unnerved. _Perhaps she thinks some cogs got shaken loose -_ Freya thought to herself - _Lets be honest. Probably more than a few..._

“ **I don’t know anything about that...** ” she backed towards the door, “ **I’m sure Lady Cassandra will want to know you’ve wakened. She said ‘at once’!** ”

Maybe she should talk to Cassandra before attempting to flee. Maybe she’d just let her go… “ **And where is Lady Cassandra?** ”

“ **In the Chantry with the Lord Chancellor. 'At once,’ she said!** ” - quickly the woman retreated through the door. Scrambling no doubt to report that Freya was awake. The small one room cabin felt far too empty to be alone in. It was hard to distract herself from the grief alone. 

Just before she reached for the door her hand arked it’s strange green magic. Her heart felt as if it froze in her chest. It was still there. Somehow though it didn’t hurt like those first times. Like little tiny zaps across her skin. At worst pin pricks. Like a limb that had fallen asleep. “Fuck,” the mark was still there. Shaking her head as she twisted the door handle. Resolved to talk with Cassandra. And see if anything more had been learned about the events that had come to pass...

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP my ability to words. I apparently was to tired when I wrote this but it is done lmao! Thanks again for taking the time to read, and any replies and thoughts are more than welcome! I'd love to hear what you think so far.


	5. A Word By Any Other Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freya is determined to distract herself from everything with some Ale and hopefully someone to warm her bed. But then there's Commander cock block...

Perhaps for someone who was just once again starting to feel human again - perhaps the tavern was not the place Freya should have gone. Upon leaving the circle over a year ago - it wasn’t a pretty journey. Sure she looked out for Taleigha best she could. But after living a life so heavily dictated. Being told what to do, when to do it…  _ How  _ to do it. 

Ill prepared would be putting it mildly when trying to describe how going out on her own went. With so much shit in her past - Freya hadn’t ever developed a way to properly deal with it. And upon getting her freedom, as well as trying to discover who exactly  _ she  _ was… There were more than a few vices that she’d picked up on. 

Sarcasm and the habit of blaspheme were part of the mask carved out to prevent people from seeing the broken, self loathing creature she truly was. Preening and flirting to distract from how unworthy she felt of love. How she acted like nothing mattered, or like there wasn’t a thing that could bother her to protect herself from anyone realizing how sensitive she truly was. How deeply she felt things. How much words could cut. Or actions destroy. 

Alcohol just became a crutch rather rapidly. Drinking just to numb herself for a time. It made faking happiness all the easier. And while she did so much to keep people away - to stop herself from getting too close… The booze aided in the other habit she’d picked up. Of meaningless relations on the worst nights. 

Sex was just a way to feel close to someone. While in the circle it had been a punishment, and a weapon used against her - here in the big bad world, Freya gave into the urge to fuck merely to feel close to someone. Her body had been taken by force so many times. A spoiled thing that nobody should want.

Trained into her was a subconscious belief that she should be honored that someone would take interest in her. Not that she should only give these intimate parts of herself to someone deserving. It was a double edged blade. In the moment it made her feel desirable and wanted. Powerful even. But after it just felt as if another shard of her soul was chipped away. Leaving her more worthless and self hating than before. 

Freya had already gone to Cassandra - having found her in the Chantry once more arguing over what was to be done with her. Surprisingly enough Cassandra seemed to have taken on championing for her - from what she got from eavesdropping before entering. Seeing as there was still use for her - considering the delightful glowing bullshit on her hand… Seemed Cassandra wanted to keep her around. 

Declared the inquisition. The other important members of this rag tag group had come together and despite his clear distaste for a Mage, Cullen had kept his clear distaste of her in check. Though he’d seemed to enjoy how the idea of anyone calling her something like the ‘ _ Harold of Andraste _ ’ disturbed her. Where others had taken to calling her Harold out of a sense of reverence she knew she didn’t deserve - he’d taken to using it out of mockery. 

Her fist seemed small around the handle of the large tankard. Almost comically so. Rey wasn’t the tallest person. Standing barely five foot. Much to her woe, many times her short and slim stature had people mistaking her for a child. Sometimes that came in handy. Other times she absolutely despised it. After all. It made it all the easier to physically overpower her.

The large mug was lifted to her lips as she quickly drained much of it in an impressive fashion. Setting it down and rubbing the froth from the ale off on her sleeve. Knowing that she’d have to leave the relatively safe walls of Haven in two days time to head into the hinterlands. See some Mother. Those types never liked her.

Warm amber eyes flickered over the group gathered in the small tavern. It was when a familiar face took a seat at her table. It was impossible not to grin welcomingly. Varric had a way that just made it easy to like him. And he was one of the few people that seemed to appreciate her quips. 

“ **Come to give your blessed Harold your penitence Red?** ” - her tone light and teasing, a grin spread easy over her lips. Chin lifted in a fake display of pious.

The dwarf chortled and shook his head with a returned smile. “ **Should I kiss your boots first?** ” 

  
  


“ **Hmm…** ” as if she was seriously pondering the validity of the offer, “ **perhaps that would help clean the nug shit off of them…** ” Twisting to the side in her chair and extending her feet, “ **Alright. I’ll allow it.** ” 

He took a seat - seeming Felissa had noticed him and was bringing an ale over, “ **sorry. I think I’ve had my fill of nug shit for the day. I’ll just resign to remaining a sinner and a cur.** ” He’d nodded a thanks to the barkeep and slid coin on the table. 

A musical chorus of laughter left the Mages lips, “ **Oh please. You’re hardly a cur. Scoundrel for sure. Cur. Not mean enough for it.** ” 

Feigning offence, “ **are you calling me soft?** ” 

“ **Perhaps** ,” she teased, “ **don’t worry. I’ll keep it a secret. Let all the other ladies think you’re all** **_hard_ ** **and rough around the edges.** ” Honestly they’d had this kind of banter over the last couple of days. And it seemed at least thus far he knew not to take her too seriously. Half of what she said was a joke or a lie. 

“ **So very benevolent of you,** ” indulging himself then in his refreshment. 

“ **Just be more like me. I’m a regular figurehead of debauchery.** ” Wiggling her eyebrows with a mischievous lilt to her voice, “ **Andraste chose wisely.** ” She didn’t mean that in the least. If anything she’d long struggled with the idea of there actually being a Maker - or that there was any purpose to give reverence to Andraste. Her world had been a bleak one. And somehow it had felt easier to not believe in any of the Chantry teachings. Not believe in a Maker. Even if he wasn’t some fluffy kitten ‘god’. Random chaos. Random evil. Random good. It seemed easier to swallow. Also made it easier to take their names in vain. 

If there was a maker - an Andraste out there - surely they’d have rather smot her than saved her for how much she talked about the makers cock and andraste’s tits. Right? She didn’t feel the least bit qualified to make choices for this… movement. And perhaps was a bit biased as well. After all. She was a mage - as if anyone could forget that fact. 

Snorting as he set the mug down, “ **by the way… I’ve been meaning to ask you… Are you holding up all right? I mean, you go from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the armies of the faithful. Most people would have spread that out over more than one day.** ” 

Not exactly where she’d expected the conversation to go clearly, that roguish grin faltered slightly - but only for a moment. Shrugging dismissively. “ **Honestly I have no idea what’s happening anymore,** ” her hand moved, swirling the remaining liquid around in her tankard, “ **but thank Andraste’s tits I’ve still got a head on my shoulders. A very nice head I might add** ”

Varric shook his head, “ **That makes two of us,** ” a warm smile given, “ **clueless - but at least we look good doing it.** ”

“ **Here here!** ” For someone so small her voice boomed, a few people jumped. Probably no one having a clue what they were even talking about. But some respectively cheered after having been startled. Perhaps the only useful perk of being this ‘Harold of Andraste’. 

She could be ridiculous. Varric surely had noticed she wasn’t proper, or perfect. But still he’d seemed to be supportive of her in a way most the others hadn’t been. The fact she was a mage didn’t curl his lip like it did most. 

“ **For days now, we’ve been staring at the Breach, watching demons and Maker-knows-what fall out of it. ‘Bad for morale’ would be an understatement. I still can’t believe anyone was in there and lived,** ” it seemed tonight he seemed determined to give her some form of praise. Not what she’d felt had been earned. It was unexpected still to have someone who seemed to genuinely be trying to check in on her. So she wasn’t ready to have a heart to heart… But she appreciated it more than he could know. 

“ **It’s pure luck that I escaped,** ” her own way of dismissing the current circumstances surrounding her. 

“ **Good luck or bad?** ” Varric chuckled.

_ Bad luck probably _ \- thinking to herself though she just shrugged, “ **dunno yet.** ” Having seemed to have gone with a safe answer in the matter. Taking another deep gulp of the ale, before biting her lip, brows drawing together, “ **The Breach needs to be sealed. The sooner the better.** ”

“ **If it can be sealed,** ” the dwarf winced as if he instantly scolded himself eternally for the commnet. His eyes looking over and studying the Harold. She wasn’t looking back at him. It wasn’t hard to see her own uncertainty playing, “ **You might want to consider running at the first opportunity. I’ve written enough tragedies to recognize where this is going. Heroes are everywhere. I’ve seen that. But the hole in the sky? That’s beyond heroes. We’re going to need a miracle.** ”

Snorting she finished off her drink, looking at Varric, “ **I’m no hero.** ” A statement many would agree with… Most of all the infuriating Commander Cullen. Sighing, “ **but where would I go? Blood it up with the Vints?** ” Finishing off the ale. Something she didn’t want to admit was she needed the inquisition at the moment. Beyond the hood of safety it was providing her from those that would have her executed for the explosion at the conclave.

Because in that blast - abruptly once again she found herself lacking a purpose for life. And without some distraction - without something to pour her time in. She had nothing. No reason left at all. Maybe she couldn’t save herself let alone Thedas. But the unknown  _ after  _ \- it felt terrifying still. Her eyes had swiveled around the room. Stopping on the templar that stood in the room. Technically one of the templars that had apparently left the order with Commander Cullen. His eyes on her. 

She had a feeling he’d asked the man to watch her. It gave her a  _ very  _ bad idea…

It took a moment to realize that Varric had been talking that whole time. Giving some ‘destination places’ in some joke on the topic of her leaving. “ **Hmm?** ” then grinned, “ **oh sorry. I got distracted. Looks like the Commander wants to keep tabs on me…** ” 

Her voice was full of a promise of bad decisions to come. Varric looked over, “ **give curly some time. He might warm up to you yet.** ” 

“ **I’m such a delight, no idea why he doesn’t like me,** ” sarcasm dripping as she grinned. Looking at the templar -  _ ex  _ templar like he was a meal of some kind. 

“ **Just don’t eat his men alive and you’ll probably have a shot,** ” brow raised as he watched her sizing up some sort of plan.

A toothy grin was worn lopsided on her lips, “ **I don’t plan to** **_eat_ ** **him Varric. Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll like whatever punishment I give him...** ” winking as she pushed herself out of the seat. It was almost amusing to see an ill fitting innocent look spread over her face. A timid looking smile,his giving a gentle sway as she approached the sentinel that appeared to be stationed her. 

Flirting was easy. The guy was clearly not comfortable at first. After all. His commanding officer had stationed him to watch the mage. Second… well. She was a mage. While she’d never use enchantments, or try bedding someone that didn’t want it… Freya had convinced herself it was a fun game. 

Way of taking them down a peg. It could be amusing to see how tormented these  _ chantry  _ boys could get over fucking anyone - let alone a mage. A few careful words, innocent flirts… Big amber eyes. A light tough on the chest. A laugh here. It wasn’t long before the guard seemed less concerned about his duty and more about how she drew her bottom lip between her teeth. Or how the innocent, breathy tone had sounded with his name on her lips. 

Her voice sure as fuck didn’t sound that soft naturally. Adding a bit of a higher pitch always seemed to work. They seemed more guarded when she just spoke in her normal tone. Which was smokier. Sultry. 

“ **Would you be so kind Ser - to walk me back to my caben… I’m afraid it’s gotten rather late…** ” big innocent eyes looking up at him, taking his arm in hers, “ **I will find some way to reward your gallantry.** ” 

It was no surprise as he started out with her. She turned and shot a wink over her shoulder at Varric. He just chuckled, and once again shook his head at the antics of the copper haired mage. The pair disappeared outside. Once of the doors she let him have a taste of her lips, before smiling at him, “now now. Before you get anything else…” as if she hadn’t played into him kissing her outside the tavern.... A grin spreading over her face , stepping back just out of his reach. The soldier stepping forwards, wanting to pull her into his grip again. Hungry for another taste… “First you’ve got to catch me…” 

Surprise crossed his face as she giggled, and took off. Laughing heartily as she dashed through a fresh layer of snow away from the tavern. Looking back and seeing after a moment of surprise he’d grinned and started to chase her. 

Purposefully she allowed him to catch her before they got to her cabin. Almost there. He’d hooked his arm around her slimp curves and pressed her against a wall. Hungrily meeting her lips. A soft moan left her lips as she pressed her curves into him, on her toes to meet his needy groping, as his hand slid under her tunic and palmed over her breast. Fingers catching her nipple as he groaned into her soft lips. Her own hand sliding down his toned body, before her hand teasingly rubbed over the growing bulge in his pants.

He’d next to growled with desire then. When she’d surprised him again by sliding out of his grasp once more and running for her door. Him (admittedly with more trouble now) chasing after. Wanting that promised prize for  _ safely  _ bringing her to her little corner of Haven.

Grinning wickedly she’d looked behind her. Laughing merrily. Not a worry in the world when her forward momentum was completely stopped by a fucking wall. 

No. Not her cabin. Not an actual wall. 

Commander Cullen Rutherford. 

The man was absolutely seething. Those honey eyes barely warranted her a glance as he seemed to gaze daggers at the former templar she’d happened to ensnare with her womanly wiles. Cullen having stopped her from falling… But now held her in a very firm grip. 

_ The commander has some nice strong hands…  _ she found herself thinking as she licked her pink lips. He’d been about to open his mouth to tell Cullen to move along when he realized who had gotten in the way of his prize - that was  _ so  _ very close to being realized, “ **C-Commander Cullen…** ”

“ **I instructed you to keep watch the mage. Not to** **_fraternize_ ** **with her soldier.** ” 

“ **I- I’m sorry commander… I was just…** ” 

She never got to find out what he was going to say. The commander dismissed him, “ **leaving. You were just leaving.** ”

Perhaps it was the aid of having had a few tankards of ale - but Freya wasn’t apparently worried about pushing Cullen tonight. As he’d been ‘commander of the armies’ and all - she’d avoided pushing to many buttons. Instead she’d grinned, shamelessly. Looking up at the Commander. She’d admitted it to herself before. But he was handsome. Maybe she could get the guy to relax a little. “ **Awe come on commander - we were just having some fun. The poor mans got his jollies up and everything.** ” 

He made a disgusted noise as he continued to grip her arm and pulled her to her cabin, “ **Ooo. Are you going to push me up against a wall next** **_Commander_ ** **?** ” her voice purred as he very  _ firmly  _ guided her into her little place. “What are y-” what was gearing up for a scolding seemed to drop off as he noticed her tunic - in the midst of the groping hung indecently over her chest. The vee of it teasing just a hint of the coral pink of her left Areola. His breath hitched.

_ So he is a man after all  _ \- the thought danced through her mind as she reached to pull him closer by the belt. Lips parted expectantly. After all. She had wanted to have some time lost in someone else's body. Not be left alone with her thoughts and insecurities. Since the commander had chased off her chosen ‘suitor’ - he seemed a viable back up plan… Her other hand sliding up the hard work of muscles along his abdomen and thinking perhaps he should have been her first choice. Lips parting as her eyes fluttered closed as she saw him leaning in.

Instead though she gasped at the force of being pushed further into the cabin. Losing her footing and battle with gravity as she ended up on the floor with a grunt. “ **Makers cock. What’s your fucking problem Cullen?** ” she’d snapped. Reeling from the clear misreading of the situation. 

For a moment she could almost swear he’d looked surprised by what he’d done. As if he’d pushed her away in a panic. But then his eyes grew hard once again. “ **Try to stay to yourself. It’s difficult enough to have to have a mage being called the Harold of Andraste,** ” a venom in his voice struck a cord deep in her. The anger he’d replaced his surprise with reminded her to much of a certain knight commander in her past. Fear choked her retort,  **“lets not let it get out the Harold is a** **_whore_ ** **and a mage. You’ll ruin what little legitimacy we’ve been trying to get in the eyes of the public.** ” 

“ **What… What did you call me? You templars.. So many of you are the same, aren’t you? Can’t fucking perform if someone gives you _consent_ ,** ” spitting words at him she instantly regretted. Giving too big of a glimpse at the cards life had dealt her if he'd cared to pay attention.  


But still, despite all the lies she’d told herself about making sex her own weapon of empowerment - Each word cut her to the wick. Not that she wanted to let him know. She hated herself at the best of times. She’d thought that word of herself more than she’d care to admit. Tears stun the backs of her eyes. Refusing to let a single tear drop. She picked up a small wooden box off the floor and flung it at the commander, “ **GET OUT!** ” 

With ease he’d deflected the little box. But something seemed to caused the Commander to hesitate. “ **GET OUT! GET** **_OUT_ ** **!** ”

Her pride could have taken rejection. With ease. But something about in Cullen calling her a whore made her lash out. Anger was a good tool to keep her from breaking down. But still her vision was blurry. And it was only after the sound of the door opening and closing as the Commander left that she’d broken down and sobbed.

_He's not wrong_ a sickly sweet whisper taunted her.

No one could hate Freya more than Freya herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I am shit I knooooooooooooooooooooow. T-T


	6. We're All A Little Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look at me deciding to do another chapter IMMEDIATELY after the last. Choosing to do it more of a Cullen prospective. *screams into the night* - would have been done sooner but decided to go dissociate in the shower for an hour :’) - yes it is a bunch shorter. But kind of felt I needed to explore a bit of Cully.

Cullen Rutherford stood outside Freya’s door. Gulping down the cold air. Eyes closed as he gathered himself. That had hardly gone how he’d planned. He’d planned to firmly implore her to behave more … becoming of the Harold of Andraste. True or false - like it or not - she was the face of the inquisition. That had responsibilities. Duties. 

But he hadn’t expected to be hit so hard with desire for the mage. He’d been so tempted to drag her in closer and ravage her lips with kisses. To push away the fabric of her tunic and explore the delicious curve of her breasts.

He’d wanted her. And he’d almost been weak - almost given into that urge in the moment. In a panic he’d pushed her away - much more forcefully than he’d intended. It was a quick, rash move. Uncontrolled as it would have been to kiss the infuriating woman. 

The Commander of the armies of the inquisition - had panicked. He didn’t panic in battle. But he’d panicked alone in the room with a pint sized woman. Cullen had panicked and he’d thrown words at the mage as if to wound. 

Even if he didn’t like her... Didn’t trust the mage… It had been unbecoming of himself to act as he had. And the moment he’d hurled his attack of words at her, he’d regretted it. Something about the broken look that had played over her features. The look that haunted her bright amber eyes. He’d known he’d gone too far. 

Conscience had demanded he apologize. But there was a part of him - that part of himself that he was ashamed of - that refused. As if it would physically wound him if he apologized to the mage… That obviously would not actually happen. But still, despite hesitation… After she’d yelled at him to leave - he’d taken the cowards way out of the situation and left. 

He’d wounded her. She’d responded to his anger with her own. But there was more to it than that. In her words and how she looked at him. His heart pounded in his chest. But even the rush of blood couldn’t prevent him from hearing something that knotted his stomach in a sobering dose of guilt and shame. 

He could hear the broken sobs coming from within the cabin behind him. 

“ **Makers breath,** ,” he exhaled, brows knit in frustration. How was he going to inspire his men to keep the peace between the mages if he couldn’t lead by example? They were all part of the inquisition. Regardless of origin. But there was so much  _ history _ . So much hurt between both sides. A part of Cullen worried that bringing them all together into a cohesive group - bringing peace between templars and mages for the sake of Thedas - was a taller task than even closing the tear in the sky. 

Mad at himself now more than he’d been mad at her. 

Disgusted when he reflected back and swore he’d even seen  _ fear  _ on her face. While unable to bring himself to enter back into the cabin and intrude on her as she fell apart - Cullen determined he’d stand outside of her cabin… Not to keep her in. But he did what he could to ensure no one disturbed her in a moment he had a feeling she truly wanted to be alone. 

What had she meant about  _ Can’t perform if someone gives you consent… _ He had a good idea. And honestly, part of him didn’t want to know. As a templar there had been many who would demonize the smallest stumble of a mage… But practiced much more leniency and understanding for their own. 

That was part of the problem. For so long it was two sides pitted against each other. Us vs them. Was he happy that a mage was the one who bore the mark on her hand?

No. He could admit that. The fact she was a mage - it disturbed him. Because he’d seen what a mage could do. He’d seen the evil, vile, wicked things that mages had gotten into. 

But that wasn’t  _ every  _ mage. He had learned that. Even grown to be friendly with some. Yet each time he met a new mage - he was so willing to think the very worst of them.

Was it fair? He’d been conditioned to think so. Most people had been conditioned to think such a thing. But as he stood in the brisk night air mulling over her words… He realized he never thought the worst of his comrades. It took a lot for him to question them. 

Like with Meredith. What she had been doing - what she planned to do - there was a lot of immorality to it. He eventually had come to his senses. But after that - he had realized how blindly he followed. Having spent most of his life not thinking to use his own damn mind. Think for his own damn self. And most of all - think beyond one group. Beyond the templars. That was why he’d joined the inquisition. It wasn’t just for templars. It wasn’t just for the circle. It was for Thedas.

He believed that fervently in his heart.

But here he was… Still so stuck in his ways. 

There was no Meredith to blame for his cruelty. His unfair and unequal treatment of mages.

_There was only himself._


	7. Give Them Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi ho hi ho - it's off to the Hinterlands we go.

“ **For someone so tiny- you sure move fast Red,** ” Varrics voice came in a teasing, yet slightly out of breath voice. The group of four moving with purpose to the last place that Mother Giselle had been spotted in the hinterlands. It wasn’t difficult to see something had been bothering the young mage. And she was moving as if an archdemon was on her heels. 

Moving with purpose was optimal of course - but makers breath. She sure was moving.

Amusement still was laced in her voice as she replied. Herself a little breathy from the quick pace they’d been travelling, “ **did I hear you right Varric,** ” she mused, teasing him right back, “ **did I just hear you call me small?** ”

“ **Ouch. You wound me,** ” he chuckled, “ **I’m saying - a fellow - vertically challenged friend to another. You are moving really fast despite your more dainty strides. You know - you have nothing to prove to the Seeker and chuckles here. I think Chuckles might actually faint. Him being so used to skipping about in dreams rather then across fields…** ”   
  
“ **I don’t skip, Varric** .” apparently Solas had not appreciated the humor, words clipped. Though the debate was up if it really was because of Varric's jesting - or because he was a bit ruddy cheeked and exhausted from the overly enthusiastic pace, “ **time is,** ” he took in a quick breath, “ **of the essence after all -** ” the last of his words rushed as Freya seemed to decide a short cut was called for. 

Down a more dangerous path, with more slipping rocks and dirt. 

“ **What Solas said. Time. It’s of the essence,** ” her own face red from the blood rushing. 

Cassandra was rather quiet to that point, “ **we should take a moment to regroup. We are getting nearer. But it will do us no good if we are to worn out when we arrive. There may be trouble yet between us and Mother Giselle.** ”

“ **The great Seeker needs a breathe?** ” honestly though, she felt she needed one as well. Not that she wanted to admit as much. She’d been so focused on moving forwards until the last five minutes when the exhaustion was starting to wear on her. And there was a nagging dry tickle at the back of her throat begging to be quenched by some water. 

The other woman huffed, “ **I don’t need one. But it would be most welcomed.** ”

All had made it safely down the steep incline. Despite Varric having slid onto his ass by accident and sliding part way down, “ **I meant to do that…** ”

Luckily it was a quiet spot. Some place to catch their breath, attend to their thirst. Perhaps have a snack. “ **Okay. I concede. Let's take a little break. Some water and food wouldn’t be so bad.** ” 

Varric brushed off the dirt from the back of his pants with a humph, “ **well. Nice to see you’re starting to play well with others.** ” 

The mage snorted and dug into her satchel. Fingers wrapping around some dried meat, and taking her water skin, “ **I always do. I’m a maker given delight,” she joked dryly, “everyone else is the problem.** ” 

Cassandra made a noise, “ **you don’t truly believe that, do you?** ” 

Before Rey had a chance to answer Varric quipped in, “ **I see what this is about - your friend from the tavern - I’m taking he didn’t play well.** ” 

The pointed look that Freya gave him was answer enough.

“ **I should have known. I’ve a mind to put an arrow in his knee for making me run so much today.** ”

Freya wanted to stay frustrated but the corner of her mouth twitched, “ **Varric. You did not run. You sped walked… you slid down a hill on your ass and you’ve walked fast.** ”

“ **Well. It might as well have been running. My legs are made for leisure - for the comfort of a city. Not gallivanting about Thedas as I’ve got a hoard of darkspawn behind me.** ” 

“ **Just a big ol’ softy,** ” she quipped with a grin, 

“ **I’m very hard where it counts,** ” he teased right back.

Cassandra seemed scandalized at that, “ **Varric**.” she snapped. 

A laugh left Freya at that, “ **behave Varric. Lest you defile our poor Seeker with dirty mind. A dirty genius mind. But dirty no less.** ” 

“ **Now if that ain’t calling the kettle black,** ” Varric mused. 

Solas seemed happy enough to stay out of the groups conversion for the time as he himself indulged in some water and food. 

“ **So Red, what DID happen with you and your friend? Adult fun time go bad?** ” Varric teased.

She groaned mournfully, “ **I don’t want to talk about it**.” 

He only grinned bigger, “ **he a receiver not a giver?** ”

Another heavy sigh, “ **No. Commander cockblock showed up and sent the poor lad running off.** ”

“ **Commander c- Andraste guide me,** ” Cassandra despaired at the conversation she was being exposed to. 

“ **Well. I wouldn’t say he was running. More like-** ” she did a funny shuffle run, Varric immediately burst out in laughter. Even Solas cracked a grin, “ **you know. He was at attention in certain places. Made running hard. At least his pants were still on I guess. Poor guy.** ”

“ **I’ve changed my mind. I think we should keep going,** ” the Seeker Lamented.

Varric chuckled, “ **commanader cock block. I love it.** ” 

Freya’s lips twitched into another short smile. She missed having banter with people. So much of her life she was isolated. Isolated even among the isolated. 

Once more the group had moved on. Having taken the time to gather themselves. And all had managed to fall into a relatively pleasant conversation far from the apparently scandalous topicof Reys sex life - or the lack of one. And it had been for the better, as Cassandra had been right in the worries of trouble between them Mother Giselle. Coming across a few patches of fighting. Where the clash between templars and mages once more left innocents in the crossfire. 

As much as she didn’t enjoy the idea of killing, templars or mages, it seemed the only way to stop these groups that had lost all sense beyond the murdering of each other. Maker damn any that get too close. In both instances they had been outnumbered. But lucky enough in the final ot have aid show up from inquisition soldiers. 

Each had fought hard. There was something about fighting beside someone that could strengthen a bond. Or forge a new one. And as the group finally walked a little worse for wear to the area Mother Giselle had been seen there seemed to be a feeling of more - togetherness really. It hardly was the first time they had fought together. Yet the travels had seemed to do them good. 

It was sobering though, as the broken and worn people of the area looked at the group with what they seemed to be lacking - hope. The last group they’d battled had been setting an attack on the innocent. Freya had done so much to focus on her own plight. Her own problems. Choose _herself_. Because no one ever did…

But those eyes that had watched them. Desperate, frightened people. She knew what that was like. To feel powerless. Like everything was being taken from you and there wasn’t anything you could do that would be enough to stop it. Those eyes left a sobering reality set upon her shoulders. The weight increasing. Who was she if she turned a blind eye to the suffering of those who needed help so desperately. It took a moment for Cassandra to realize Freya was not following towards the reported location. Rather having stopped next to a woman comforting her wailing child that had burns. 

The mother in frustrated tears, at a loss of what to do as her child was in pain. She’d probably already come a ways to get help for the wounds. While she was no great healer, freya had healing tonics, and trusty burn creams.

A protective arm was wrapped around the child, Freya forced a smile as the little girl met her eyes, “ **you must be very brave to fight dragons.** ” The girl hiccuped, eyes red and swollen. 

But it seemed to do the trick in distracting the small mind a bit from the great pain she’d probably been in. The mother gave Freya a frosty look, after her eyes fell on the staff. “ **Move on** **_mage_ ** **.** ” 

The child huddling closer to her mother, “ **Freya. We should keep moving. We are almost there. They can get aid once they reach the village.** ” 

She knew the Seeker thought of what needed to be done. But when Freya saw the child it reminded her that the bigger picture was this. The people. The little people. The small and downtrodden. At least it was to her, “ **just give me a minute, I can help and we can go.** ” She moved and took a bottle from her belt, small and so insignificant looking. Despite having been bruised up from the fights - she hadn’t used any of her tonics. She offered it to the mother, “this should help start the healing,” pulling out a little tin with a peachy salve in it, “and this will help stop the pain while it does.” her eyes pleading the woman to take her offering. Because despite the mistrust - no child should suffer for this war. 

It felt like an age that the woman looked at the offered items before gingerly took the items, conflicted, but misty eyed, “ **T-thank you…** ” she murmured.

Freya smiled at the wet eyed little girl, “ **no more fighting dragons. Okay?** ” Getting up, looking once more to the mother, " **the Commander of the inquisition is a former Templar... You might not trust mages... But there are good people in Haven. See if you can get there with a group. The inquisition will do all we can to keep you safe.** " It seemed that stunned the others as they regarded their travel companion. Probably not a one of them would have thought the foul mouthed mage would have a fondness for children. Cassandra had a look that said she may have felt a bit of guilt for not helping them as well… But in war it was easy to focus on one thing and forget the rest. Was it right? No. But it was easier to live with the cost of it if you put on blinders.

Reaching the Mother the rest stood back, allowing her to approach the woman tending to the wounded. She might not be a fan of the chantry - but still. She could appreciate a woman who would go into the middle of a war to aid those in need. 

Hearing her speak to a wounded soldier, imploring him to allow the mages to heal him. And when he protested, she matter of factly said their magic was turned to noble purpose. How magic was surely no more evil than the blade. Comforting with reason and calm. “ **Mother Giselle?** ” Freya spoke, a question despite her confidence this was in fact, the Mother she sought out. 

“ **I am,** ” rising from the ground she’d been kneeling on next to the cot, “ **and you must be the one they’re calling the Harold of Andraste.** ” 

Freya visibly winced at the title. It was not what she believed herself to be. Surely if Andraste was out to save a harold for her people, it wouldn’t be someone who so commonly talked about her tits or her having a hairy asshole… “ **not by any choice of mine.** ”

The mother laughed. That had taken her off guard. Most the chantry mothers she had known in the circle where pinch faced. Joyless women who couldn’t seem to take a joke. Laughter was one of the last things she expected to hear from the woman who now met her eyes, “ **we seldom have much say in our fate, I’m sad to say.** ”

Clearly she hadn’t expected that either, surprise leaching into her tone, “ **so you** **_agree_ ** **with them?** ”

“ **I don’t presume to know the makers intentions for any of us,** ” practical, that was how she sounded, “ **but I didn’t ask you here to simply debate with me.** ” 

“ **Andraste’s t- I uh. I mean I know I’m not but - why am I here then?** ” after all - she caught herself from saying another round of Andraste’s tits. After all. She wasn’t here to offend the sister. She was here trying to figure out if the woman could help them. The mothers rarely approved of taking Andraste’s name in vain… 

Though gratefully it seemed she let it slip. “ **I know of the Chantry’s denouncement - and of those behind it.** ” she had started walking along with Freya, “ **I won’t lie. Some of them are grandstanding - hoping to increase their chances of becoming the new divine.** ” 

“ **Now that’s something I can believe,** ” She snorted, _by the sack hairs of the maker of course they are_ she thought bitterly. That was what most people did while they hid away in their cubbies of safety. Vied for more power. Groped for more control

“ **Some-** ” the Mother continued, “ **some are simply terrified.** ” Though she didn’t say it - Freya believed that as well. “ **So many good people, senselessly taken from us.** ” 

Rey winced. Sorrow gripping her heart at the chance to force her thoughts back to the people she knew that hadn’t been seen since the explosion at the conclave. Like Taleigha. Good people that were lost. _No - dead_ . Her thoughts forcing her to look at the ugly truth of the words. Lost. Taken. They hadn’t just been whisked off to another part of Thedas. They hadn’t just taken a wrong turn. Dead. They were dead. Her voice cracked for a moment, “ **it - it was truly a tragedy-** ” clearing her throat and glancing over to the Mother, “ **but… don’t you stand with the rest of the Chantry?** ”

Giselle tipped her head back to Freya. Coming to a stop once more, “ **with no Divine, we are each left to our own consciences,** ” standing and facing Freya, eyes looking imploringly to the mage, “ **and mine tells me this:** **_Go_ ** **to them.** **_Convince_ ** **the remaining clarics you are no demon to be feared. They have only heard frightful tales of you. Give them something else to believe.** ”

“ **Makers balls,-** ” she winced at the withering look she received for that slip, “ **you want me to appeal to them? I’m a mage you know. Traditionally people see you as a cursed demon just for that fact. Forget that people are calling my the Harold of Andraste…** ” she huffed frustrated. Frustrated by the prejudice against her and those like her. But she bit back the rant she wanted to go on.

Mother Giselle remained steady, calm, and unperturbed by her little outburst aside from the reprimanding look for saying makers balls in her presence. “ **If I thought you were incapable, I wouldn’t suggest it.** ”

That was odd - and relatively an unknown feeling for Freya. Because the meaning of what the Mother was say was - well. She believed in her. Believed Freya had the power to make a change. Something that the mage wasn’t sure of herself, “ **will they even listen?** ”

“ **Let me put it this way-** ” brown eyes still fixed on her. Unfazed by the doubt that could be heard in Freya’s own voice, “ **you needn’t convince them all. Just need some to doubt. The power is their unified voice. Take that from them, and you will receive the time you need.** ”

Simple facts. Harder to make into action. But it was sage advice. She had to give the Mother that. Hesitating a moment - “ **it’s … good of you to do this.** ” Reach out to a stranger such as herself, denounced by many of her people. To come into the path of harm to aid those who needed it. 

“ **I honestly don’t know if you’ve been touched by fate. Or sent to help us but…** ” voice sincere, “ **I hope. Hope is what we need now. The people will listen to your rallying call as they listen to no other. You could build the inquisition into a force that will deliver us... or destroy us…. I will go to Haven and provide Sister Leliana the names of those in the Chantry who will be amiable to a gathering. It is not much. But I will do whatever I can.** ”

With that the she started to walk off again, but Freya stood thinking over her words. There was a lot to consider. And even more to do.


	8. The Come Down Champion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First of all - thanks to everyone taking the time to read this fic. And thank you for the kudos.
> 
> Also I just want to say this chapter is 0% of what I started it out to be. And I am laughing my ass off at myself. And I know one of you reading this knows 100% what I mean from our conversation... So now I gotta go and make that the next chapter lmfao. Stories. Minds of their damn own sometimes. 
> 
> But whatevs. here we go. one more chapter from a Cullen prospective.

It had been over a month since the Harold had gone out to the Hinterlands. Sparse letters made it back scrolled in Cassandra’s handwriting. Never one for wasting words. Though sometimes more… Embellished works would make it back from Varric. Mother Giselle had arrived rather shortly after their departure. 

Cullen hadn’t been sure what to expect from the mage. And there was a large part of him that was selfishly glad they had remained away for so long. After the encounter in her cabin there was absolutely no desire to spend more time than needed with her. Also he was ashamed to realized part of it was also because he was reluctant to apologize. Perhaps it came from a place in himself that wanted to wait until she proved his actions justified. Proved she was like the worst mages he’d known.

That was hardly fair. And he understood that was an improper way of thinking. But knowing something and changing ways he’d thought for so long - had so long been enforced by the people he looked up to and worked alongside… Maker. It was not going to be easy. It was after reciting the chant, searching himself for what he could do - how he could become better. Look where he perhaps - no were he  _ was  _ failing… It was after that he’d resolved that despite the time that had passed since his uncalled for cruelty - he would apologize.

It needed to be done. Not only because she had done nothing to deserve what he’d said - but also for his own sake. Exhausting would just begin to describe how it felt to hold onto so much hate and rage. 

And even though she wasn’t around Haven - in the time since she’d been gone. The mage -  _ Freya  _ \- she’d proven herself to be a force of her own. A force for the inquisition - but more importantly. For what was right. Despite how her smart mouth did grate on his patience… _ How the sway of her hips enticed  _ \- he pushed the latter thought from his mind. Even without her here. She had communicated with him the type of person she was. Not that she could have known. 

He’d been surprised the first time a group of children - some with parents - others seeming to have been orphaned or unable to find their families - came with inquisition soldiers. He’d asked who sent them… “ **_It was the Lady Harold._ ** ” one had said. Another had started to complain how they should be out fighting not playing nanny to bring them to Haven. Cullen hadn’t needed to jump in to protest that sentiment because other soldiers had. It seemed she had won a number of them over with her actions as well. 

Another had come to him and without hesitation, provided  _ him  _ a command. Despite the fact he was the commander of the armies… “ **_She’s insisted we do all we can to ensure they are all safe, warm, and fed. And if there is a worry for space - put some in her personal cabins._ ** ”

Those that had started arriving to Haven had not just been those. More people made the trek to Haven. Even if not to stay to pledge their assistance however they could. Bringing food and resources. Even little cakes for the children. More stories of the Harold - of the hope she had started to spread. Her compassion for the downtrodden. Some remained weary because of her being a mage. But even among those who held weariness towards mages thought highly of her. 

Stories of how she’d sacrifice her own supplies to help heal children, to ensure they ate before she would entertain the thought of eating herself. It was - humbling. Truly. To watch in such a short time, how many people had been touched by her. How she inspired hope in the people, how she inspired their love for her. 

_ And you called her a whore _ …

Sighing as he winced at his own thought. When had he become like this? Truly? He could barely recall when he’d been compassionate with the mages and their plight. Back - maker back before the blight had gone into full swing…. Before… Trauma could change a person.  _ Trauma  _ \- did change a person… But that hadn’t made it right. So long he’d ignored that. So long he’d lied to himself that it was all right. It was justified. That all mages would always be a threat. 

Cullen had chosen to join Cassandra - join the inquisition - to change. To find another chance at finding the man he used to be. That same boy that had wanted to protect. Not do harm. His purpose for becoming a templar had never been to oppress and control mages. To punish them for a power they simply had been born with. No. Templars were protectors in his eyes as a child. Champions of the just. 

He’d forgotten that - conveniently - for years. More years than he’d even been a templar. He’d been corrupted. Corrupted by the events. Where a mage’s corruption may be more visible in instances of abominations - the templars had been easier to overlook. His and those he’d served with. Not that every templar hated mages. Not that every templar treated them poorly. But still. To many.

The other soldiers watched him. Lead by his example. And he slipped still. Still failed to show human decency and respect to the few mages around camp. When he’d been harsh in a reaction. So whenever he caught any of his men doing the same. He’d hardly felt like he had the right to command them to act differently. He did. Maker he was trying to do better. To  _ be  _ better… Even told them when he reacted as such it wasn’t the right way. That they should all aspire to be better soldiers. To protect and not to play judge as well… 

Cullen’s head jerked to his right at a voice “ **They should be arriving back soon. I expect within the next day at any time,** ” Leliana was one of the people who could easily sneak up on him. He frowned and was about to ask why she was telling him but Leliana already continued, “ **the Harold has done excellent work… I know you’ve had your issues with her but…** ”

“ **I don’t have an issue,** ” Cullen had snapped, cutting her off. Sighing, peaking softer, “ **she’s not the issue.** ” 

Leliana wasn’t perturbed by his reactions. If anyone had known where his  _ discomfort  _ of mages had originated - it was her. She had been there when the Hero of Fereldan had found him. Heard his desperate, fearful plea for her to kill them all. All the mages. Innocent or not. The hero - luckily, had not headed his words. She’d been heartbroken. After all. There had been a time they’d been tender to each other. And he’d just been the cruel edge of a blade from that point on towards her.  **“I know it’s … a broader stroke than simply disliking her…** ” her eyes searching his face. As if looking for cracks, “ **she is rough around the edges, sure. But from my observations - she is genuine. Tender under the harsh edges.** ” 

A curt nod, “ **I know Leliana. I have read the reports as well. She is doing good work. I won’t deny that.** ”

“ **But she’s a mage. And that’s difficult for you.** ” 

He just about denied the well mannered accusation, he’d opened his mouth to do just that. But he closed his mouth, pursed into a thin line, “ **alright. It is.** ”

Leliana nodded her appreciation for him being truthful. “ **A little bird whispered to me that you had gone into her cabin before she’d left. Stood outside after leaving.** ” 

“ **I wasn’t guarding to make sure she didn’t get out..** ” Cullen seemed to assume that would be the accusation coming forth. 

“ **I heard it on good authority that you looked a bit guilty. And that someone swore they heard crying from the cabin.** “ Leliana saw everything, heard everything… So why did that still surprise him? Wincing and feeling his mouth go dry. It was clear she had something to say. But had paused, giving him time to speak.

Clearing his throat, “ **I - may have been a bit harsher than I intended to be,** ” he confessed, Leliana raised a brow seeming to believe there was more to the story. “ **I was harsher. It was - very unbecoming of me. I reacted harshly and without thought…** ” he looked away, “ **honestly. I am rather ashamed with myself. I - I stood out there trying to ensure she got privacy after that…** ”

“ **I know you have been through a lot, Commander Cullen,** ” she didn’t have to say it, but he knew she was speaking of his time tortured, “ **but I have known a lot of mages. And most of them have been good people - better than myself. Better than you. People are so quick to jump to condemn a mage. As if a mage is worth less. Assume the worst, and be surprised when you’re proven wrong. They just want to be treated as people first. Imagine - if you can Cullen - being afraid of what people will do to you - what people can do to you - and get away with - all for the fact you had been born a certain way. Magic can be a weapon. Just as a blade. But it can be put to purpose. I’ve heard from other mages she had used to live with - the few of them that survived the culling of the circle… The atrocities they were subject to. The - abuse of power. I know you suffered a trauma Cullen. But remember. The mages helping us - the Harold - they have endured their own traumas.** ”

His mind turned over the comment Freya had spat at him in the cabin, and winced. Having an idea of some of the traumas that had been endured at her circle. Too ashamed in himself to look back to Leliana as he spoke, almost sounding defeated, “ **I - you’re right and… I am aware. I’m trying Leliana. Maker’s breath. I am trying to… Do better. To be better. It’s … been difficult. And I am planning to speak with the Harold upon her return. To apologize for my inexcusable action. I already was planning that…** ”

Leliana was silent for a minute. And Cullen had to look back because he’d suspected that she had left. Yet still she stood beside him. Studying him still. “ **Before I go - I should say this... You are a good man Cullen. I know you want to do right. Change can take falling on your face a few times. Keep getting up. I believe you are more than capable of this Commander. You're often rather harsh on yourself when it isn't required.** ” 

" **Sometimes it is,** " Cullen asked almost jokingly. Though he knew full well he needed to be hard on himself in areas... 

Her mouth twitched at the corner, as if resisting a smile, " **sometimes**." With that Leliana left the commander looking out at the soldiers practicing…


	9. Gentleman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Commander has an interesting way of apologizing.... haha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now. okay. Here is where that last damn chapter was supposed to go. I huehuehue’d with someone over how I was going to write some smuttiness. What did that chapter produce? Not an ounce of smuttiness. Failed. Hard. And anyways - I may have been obsessively listening to July Talk while writing this. Hehehehehehehe. Anyways. Push + Pull, Beck + Call, and Gentlemen are all songs you should listen to. Obviously Gentleman is 100% a mood. Anyways. This chapter 100% has smut. Eventually… How it started… was not how I planned but. Yolo…. And you are warned lmao.

Drink and fucking had become her way of dealing with shit. And it had been to long since she could properly indulge in either of those things. Out roaming the Hinterlands, closing rifts, fighting bandits, acquiring the promise of mounts from Horse master Dennet. Ending the tyranny of zealous templars - and the worse feeling of taking on fellow mages… 

There hadn’t been time. To an extent the fighting and constant travel was a very good way to ensure she didn’t have too much time to herself to think. That is until the nights. Many of them she had tossed and turned. Used to the ground. But that was when the thoughts would surge. It would take hours for her mind to quiet enough to fall into fitful, nightmare invaded sleep. 

Many nights she hadn’t even been able to sleep. Exhaustion was wearing on her. The physical and mental strain frayed her at the ends and it was becoming obvious in the field. A few close calls and the clear bags under her eyes. Finally Cassandra had firmly “suggested” heading back to Haven. To regroup. Summon the war council to speak of the next steps with the names given by Mother Giselle. The reality was the Seeker seemed to understand that Freya would have quite possibly gone till she got herself killed. The mage was giving more than she had to give.

Varric had said she was a delightful mix of admirable - and stupid after he and ol’ faithful Bianca had taken a demon out before it could do worse after having slashed her with it’s claws. More scars to add to the mix once they fully healed. So back towards Haven they had travelled. Heading into the colder weather. The snow coated landscape was not welcome as her numb limbs ached the entire way. 

Bless the dwarf- he suggested coming in and making sure to do so looking like any normal travellers to Haven. Hide the Harold. More out of worry for her exhaustion. Worried if people greeted her, craved to speak to her, grabbed at her, she’d indulge them. When what the mage needed was sleep. Needed to clean up and crawl into something with more padding. Not be disturbed or worry about being the Harold of anything, not worry for at least a night for all the people that needed her to succeed. 

It had been later in the afternoon when they’d quietly slid into the walls of Haven. All of them properly tired and seeming to lack the energy for socialization. A few grunts of goodbye had been given as they parted to go to their respective places of rest. Cassandra had suggested Freya go and relax in a bath. Rey took it as a polite way of saying she was dirty. Covered in dried mud, blood, and whatever else had been picked up on the trek back. Luckily she was able to get one drawn for her and had used her magic to heat the water. 

Part of her had hoped to fall asleep in the bath. The warm waters easing the ache in her body… But still her mind would not come to a rest. So many things crammed into her skull. From the people that looked to her. To the people she’d lost. Even to a certain Commander and wondering why it had been such a kick to the gut to be treated as she had. Usually she had thicker skin. That was frustrating. He’d had a certain power over her, and she’d let him see that. 

Nobody liked to be seen when they were cracked. Least of all to be shamed. Perhaps that was it? 

She’d given up truly relaxing and scrubbed away at her flesh. The grime of travels removed. Leaving just the criss cross of scratches, cuts, scabs, and bruises. For whatever reason, Freya seemed to wait until shit was bad before she took any tonics or asked for help healing. Even for some of her worse injuries Solas had insisted on letting him help her. 

While she was willing to help, the group had come to realize she was slow to take help. Her ability to work through the pain and exhaustion was rather impressive. Most would have faltered far earlier than her… Her hand ran over the scars along her throat. Jagged things that had been a part of her for over a year now.

With a sigh she got out of the bath, finding the clean cloak from her things. It wasn’t the heaviest of things. But she only had to get to the cabin. In one of the few letters between them and Leliana, she’d been informed her cabin was still waiting. That another place had been erected for the people she’d sent back to haven. At least they had someplace warm and dry. She could have survived in a tent fine. But the prospect of a real bed was rather rewarding…

  
  


The dark fabric wrapped around her with ease. A bonus to being small, was easily finding something to swallow you up. The downside being… the same thing. She’d not bothered to put on clothes as she clutched her items to her chest. AIding to ensure the hooded thing wouldn’t open and have her endure the biting wind on her bare skin. 

Oversized - the hood did very well to keep her face completely skewed in shadow. Thankful for Varrics suggestion of coming in quietly. Truly there wasn’t a bone in her that wanted to keep playing the role of Harold for the day. Her time in the tub had at least wasted some of the day away. It had grown darker yet. And relief filled her as she entered the cabin. Mind still burdened and doubt that even as exhausted as she was… that there’d be any form of good sleep. Hopefully at least some kind of sleep once her mind ran its course. 

To say she’d been distracted was an understatement. Because she’d ambled in like a corpse and dropped everything on the ground, thinking about starting a fire… When two things registered. One. There was a fire going. Two. There was a person at the fire. 

Three. She’d dropped the little clothing she’d had on … off. 

“ **Makers breath I- I’m sorry,** ” came a familiar voice.

Stammering as she winced at the realization and tired enough she didn’t grab at her clothes, to tired to give a fuck she was naked. “ **_Commander_ ** ,” she’d growled, brow furrowed, “ **what are you doing in here. Again.** ” He’d looked. He was looking for a good moment- “ **aside from looking at the whore of Andraste.** ” 

Making it clear she hadn’t forgotten how he’d been a  _ dick  _ before. 

He’d spun round at that, facing the wall “ **I- that isn’t why I was here… Cassandra had come to inform us of you all having arrived back in Haven. You hadn’t been here yet and it was a bit cold so I thought it’d be diligent to start the fire.** ” 

The commander was starting to ramble. “ **Diligent to start a fire…** ” she said incredulously, “ **riiiiiiight. You sure that you didn’t just come here to see what my tits looked like?** ” That seemed more believable. But then maybe she had a low opinion of him - and most templars. 

“ **I - I might not have come to start your fire initially… I didn’t come to - I came to apologize to you Lady Trevelyan..** ”

Her voice was freezing in reply, “ **don’t call me that. Freya. Rey. I’d even take whore over that.** ”

For a moment it seemed the commander forgot she was stark nude. Or perhaps hoped she’d covered herself as he’d almost turned around before seeing her still rather nude, “ **Alright… Lady Freya…** ” 

She groaned, “ **Lady this, lady that. Just Freya. I’m hardly a lady. You’ve pointed that out before.** ” Not sure what to do with a ‘sorry’ from the man. 

“ **Freya** -” he started once again.

“ **Better,** ” she said, cutting him off.

“ **_Freya-_ ** ” once more making an attempt, “ **How I acted that night - it - I was wrong. I truly am ashamed for how I acted. I have a hard time - trusting mages. You hadn’t done anything worthy of the my reaction. And my - calling you a whore. Was - I truly apologize. And no fault of your own - I don’t like to be touched, most of the time. I lost myself to a reaction that speaks poorly to my own self, not to you.** ” 

He rambled again. It was - unexpected though. He  _ sounded  _ repentant. And how he stumbled over his words, the fluster in his tone. It too didn’t seem the same as the  _ Commander  _ she’d known thus far. He had mostly talked down to her from what she could tell. But this … Her head hurt. She was tired. 

Fuck if she knew if he’d meant a word. Maybe she  _ was  _ a bitch. Or a whore. She stepped closer to him as he stood now looking resolutely to the wall above the fireplace. Possibly debating a plan of escape due to the fact that she stood between him and the door. “ **Fine. Apology accepted,** ” her amber eyes focused on his back. The brode width of his shoulders… 

Tired. Probably cranky.

But worse. She had a certain itch she hadn’t scratched. This time she was fully sober as she moved closer. Maybe she wanted to push buttons? Honestly at this point even Freya wasn’t sure. Rey could see him tense as he heard her feet on the floor getting closer. 

_ Maybe I’m just testing if he’s actually sorry _ \- she reasoned with herself.  _ Tease him a bit. Sweet little twist of revenge. Right? _

“ **Right… I should let you retire for the evening,** ” She hadn’t touched him at least. But he’d turned abruptly looking up - seeming to be now trying to make his leave. Only he ran into her. Though - at least this time he didn’t fling her aside like a hot fucking potato. Instead steadying her.

“ **I ap-** ”

She cut him off, looking up to his blush bloomed cheeks, tired amusement entered her voice, “ **let me guess. Apologize. Lots of sorries from you tonight. Don’t worry about it.** **_You’re_ ** **the one who doesn’t like to be touched…** **_Most_ ** **of the time.** ”

Finally he met her eyes. Silence for what felt like forever. There was tension thick in the air. A strain in his jaw. Anger? Frustration? His hands didn’t leave her hips though she was very much stable at that moment. 

How he  _ looked  _ at her. Like he wanted to devour her. Starved. It caused warmth to curl in her belly, her mouth to go dry. Restricted the capability to speak. That kind of intensity. Freya could  _ swear  _ that his breath had become ever so slightly heavier. Neither saying a word. Though amidst the fire in his eyes was a conflicted play of emotions. As if he was going through a monolog in his mind on why he should go out that door - and quickly. 

She’d let out a surprised gasp of breath as Cullen stooped down his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss. Like a primal force had taken hold of the Commander. Her body burned with a newly stoked desire as one of his calloused lands slid up her stomach. It alone was enough to turn the warmth growing in her gut to an inferno of need. A moan lost against the ferocity of his kiss. Stumbling back as his other hand wrapped around her waist keeping her steady until she felt the edge of the small table. Lifting her as she knocked whatever was on the table to the ground.

Freya wished perhaps - she had the willpower to tell him now to get out. That she wasn’t interested. He’d apologized, yes. But still - he’d called her a whore. And now here she was. Finding it fucking difficult to think. And every inch of her screaming for his touch. She wanted him. The intensity of the sparks was - concerning almost.

Sex was great, and she never got the gentle, tender love people swooned over in novels. But even so - this kind of - heat - she hadn’t experienced. Primal and needy on a whole new level. She could almost deam her body a fucking traitorous bitch with how within moments of him crashing his lips into hers... she could feel the eager wetness growing between her thighs. 

_ Makers balls - fuck it - _ shutting her own thoughts up because she’d craved this - physical touch. To become a tangle of bodies and let the world slip out of mind.

Gasping as his hand slid over one of her breasts, arching her back into the touch. Fuck she needed more. If kissing him was this good... 

_ Andrastes’ sacred tits. _ The commander could fucking  _ kiss _ . Her head was spinning, but this was a dance as old as time. Returning the kiss with a fervor she wouldn’t have believed she could muster not five minutes ago. Legs wrapped around his waist, hooking behind the Commander. Mind barely processing the fact that Cullen had come to her place free of armor - because she could feel the hard coil of muscle easily under the tunic he wore. He  _ always  _ had his armor on when she’d seen him around Haven before...

This -  _ this  _ she had not been expecting in the least. But there wasn’t one complaint coming from her, leaning into the ferocious kisses. It was almost like a battle between the two. Raw. Base. She arched herself further into him. Wanting to feel friction on her most sensitive parts.

He made her body ache in that good familiar way, made it respond in such a way she’d dare say no other had managed to. 

Dragging his bottom lip between her teeth as a hand moved to tug at his shirt. No armor - that  _ was  _ a true bonus.  _ Maybe the Maker is real _ \- Freya mused wiley -  _ Praise the maker in that case  _ -, a momentary thought of how -  _ inconvenient  _ armor would have been. Still, there were too many clothes on his body. A body she wanted to see. A body that felt divine. Their lips barely broke as he allowed her to remove the damn thing. Carelessly tossing it to the side. Hands greedily sliding over him. Back pressing against the wall behind the desk as he pressed hard into her, a low throaty growl into the kiss. Her own gasp lost in the absolute fervor of his kisses. 

Hips grinding forward, then a slip of a hand palming his growing erection. She’d drawn a hiss from his lips. She’d been panting herself as he seemed to use every ounce of his will to pull back. A whimper left her own throat. He’d not stepped back, because she’d latched her thighs around him reactively. Not wanting any space between their bodies... His voice was thick with  _ want _ . While the words he spoke said one thing… The tone begged for another, “ **tell me to stop. While I still can..** .” 

His weight weakly leaned against the pull of her, so much of him begging to once again to be close. To touch her. His resolve wasn’t full of conviction. He wanted her. She could see it. He was mad with lust and she inspired that. It made her feel powerful. And fuck if she wasn’t already wet.. “ **No** ,” she hissed at him. She was starving for more of his touch. More of his lips on hers. Hand reaching, fingers sliding under the waist of his pants, lightly pulling him closer again.

He groaned, his momentary  _ ‘control’  _ fading,  **“tell me to stop. And I will.** ” He stressed again. Still sounding like he was pleading for her to ask him to stay. As if her ass could kick him out now while she was so hot and bothered anyways. “ **Makers cock, Cullen,** ” her voice husky with desire, “ **_You_ ** **have to make that choice to leave yourself. Cause** **_I_ ** **want you to stay right here and** **_fuck_ ** **me.** **_Touch_ ** **me.** **_Kiss_ ** **me. Fucking** **_ravish_ ** **me. If you don’t want** **_me_ ** **to touch you -** ”

She couldn’t finish her threat - no - promise that she would have  _ her  _ hands all over him if  _ he  _ did not choose to leave. Because once more his mouth was covering hers. Her head tipped back as his tongue moved to dance along hers. If she’d thought he’d had abandon before… His thumb pinched the sensitive flesh of her nipple and she moaned into him. 

It dawned on her. Consent … He was making sure he had her consent… Was he? She barely could put a coherent thought to the words she’d thrown at him over a month ago.  _ Maybe he was different… Maybe... _ His hand slid down the plane of her stomach, and her ability to think dissolved again. Hips reaching for his touch. And a louder desperate gasp pressed through her lips as he caressed her between her thighs. Thumb brushing over her mound, head falling back as his lips seared a line away from her mouth. Down her neck. 

She wanted him - needed him inside of her. She wanted to feel him buried deep in the grip of her body. “ **Please,** ” she begged, hands moving and fumbling desperately with his pants as his mouth seared pleasure over her breasts. Drunk with lust, and hips desperately rolling into his touch. It felt good - but it wasn’t enough. It was - it was too gentle. 

Cullen dipped a curled finger inside her and drew from her a breathy noise of need. Freya felt dumb with desire - like her thoughts where a splendid muddled mess. Finally she had success in the blasted battle with his pants. Licking her lips,  _ finally  _ he was free. His erection no longer confined by the leathers. 

_ Shame on me - I haven’t even admired his body yet _ … she realized. But fuck - he was to blame for that. Because his touch was turning her into a mindless bitch in heat. One hand tangled in his hair, tugging his head back. Leveling him with a look of pure  _ want _ . Her other hand finding his cock, taking him in hand as she stroked the length of him. The stuttered breath it forced from him made her shudder. His revenge came in the form of sliding another finger inside of her. Fingers curling, reaching, stroking. 

Hitting just the right places. It made it almost -  _ almost  _ impossible to keep stroking his cock. The heat in her body fanning the growing tension setting low in her body. Once more kiss swollen lips clashed together. 

A loud whimper left her as her body shook, muscles gripping his fingers as he seemed to win the first round of their intimate battle. Having had to stop touching him from the force of her own release. But she needed  _ more  _ \- she wanted  _ more  _ \- “ **fuck me already** ,” she pleaded, “ **Cullen…** ” 

“ **So demanding, so impatient,** ” he husked, she took the hand he’d been pleasuring her with. Drawing it to her lips. Tasting herself on him. Eyes fixing on him. If he’d had any mind to tease her further, it seemed it ended there. His lips brushed along her shoulder, kissing. A crisp inhale as he nipped her gently along the tender skin at the base of her neck. 

Cullens hands slid over her body, gripping her ass and pulling her to the edge. The length of him pressing against her stomach. “ **_Please,_ ** ” she purred one more. Freya wasn’t prepared for the more  _ emotionally  _ intimate feelings that would swirl as his forehead leaned against hers. Those golden honey eyes peering into the amber of hers. Like he was looking right into her. Seeing her. And in that moment she never felt so  _ bare  _ \- so  _ exposed _ . His desire for her was undeniable in that look. So close to her. 

“ **Are you sure,** ” after gone so far already- here he was again asking her if she was sure. If she wanted this. An unfamiliar feeling gripped her chest. It felt more dangerous than any feeling of intimacy had ever given her. Physicality was her escape. It was simple. A simple physical connection between two people. Nothing more. Why did those three little words make this feel - different? As if he cared if it was what she wanted. As if he had the willpower to walk out the door despite his own need for desperation. As if he wanted her to know she had power…

Too much thinking, “ **yes. Andraste’s tits I am sure,** ” she whimpered. Freya had the desire to lean back, to get further away from his penetrating eyes. But something compelled her to be still as a hand gently grazed her cheek. The other positioned himself. Her chest heaved with excitement, held ensnared still in his eyes as she felt the hard velvet warmth of his cock slide teasingly along her labia. “ **C-Cullen - I want you inside of me,** ” she stuttered. His thumb causing her cheek to tingle with warmth as he brushed along it again. 

Finally the tip of him pressed against the aching entrance of her. Whimpering pleasurably, and protestingly as he slowly pushed himself into her. Her muscles quivered around his cock, and his body shook with pleasure. Her breasts heaved with the quickness of her breaths. Hips bucking greedily to take all of him inside of her. It almost felt too intimate, eyes locked into each others as intensely as they were. As their bodies melded into one. 

The silky warmth of her clenched him, and her hips bucked in desperation to feel him lose himself fully in her. Throw what control he was trying to hold onto. It hardly took much encouragement before the teasingly slow thrust dissolved into answer her pleading to be properly  _ fucked _ . The friction of skin on skin. Gaze broken as once more they clung to each other in the ferocity of their need. A tangle of nips, grunts and moans.

Her body shook the an orgasm. So intense she tried twisting away from the touches. As if new heights of it would be too much to bear.    
  


_ As if an orgasm could fucking kill me. Fucking what a legendary way that would be to go.  _

Gasping as Cullen pulled her from the desk, strong hands holding her against him as he guided them to the floor. Her atop him on the bearskin rug that had been in front of the fireplace. He was still buried deep in her, still so fucking hard. Mewling as her body shook again with an orgasm just from the sensation of him and a small movement from her. “ **Dragon tits,** ” she cursed nonsensically, voice filled with ecstasy. Once more she found herself enthralled by his eyes. Hooded and the lighter gold tones drawn out in the flickering of the fire.

Her hand reached to slide over and fully appreciate for the first time the hard planes of his chest. But her hand drew back before she could. Almost feeling - guilty? She hesitated, “ **Did - did** **_you_ ** **want me to touch you?** ” He’d asked her - and she’d not done the same before. His lips twitched into a sinful grin.

“ **I want you to,** ” a simple coupling of words, but meaningful somehow in how he’d said it. Cullens hands sliding along the curve of her thighs. This time there was no hesitation. A sharp inhale left the commander at the light graze of her finger tips over his stomach. Hips rising, nearly bringing their bodies apart - before sinking back down on the impressive length of him. Rey drew her bottom lip between her teeth. Nails dragging little red lines down his chest. Body singing with pleasure - wanting Cullen to have  _ her  _ name from  _ his  _ lips. It seemed only fair. He’d done it to her tonight. More than once.

Cullen moved as if to push himself up, most likely to capture her lips, but she pressed her palm down, putting her weight to keep him down. Her thrusts grew in pace, drawing moans from the Commander. The slap of flesh on flesh. She leaned back, allowing him to push himself up off the ground to, cup her breasts and nip at her neck as her head hung back, a rising crescendo of moans. The feeling of him. Of his cock reaching deep into her core. Stroking new heights of pleasure.

Somehow once more they ended up with foreheads leaning against each other. Eyes locked. Feeling his own hips more desperate to meet her rutting movements. He’d let out a throaty sound of release, “ **_Freya_ ** .” 

It was the sweetest sound. The desperate need and the heavy implications of pleasure. 

_ My name never sounded so good.  _ Freya mused, another orgasm rocked her as she mewled happily. Feeling herself clenching tight and shaking around his cock. Body milking the hot spill of his seed. Panting and spent they’d collapsed in a tangle of body parts. Her head resting on his chest. Where she could hear the thunderous beat of his own heart through the roaring of her own blood.

The sensation of strong arms wrapped around her. The drumming of his heart. It lulled Freya into a much needed sleep…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all. It has been a long as time since I wrote smut. And I should be ashamed this chapter got so long. But here it is. I ended up keeping it rather simple. More about impulse and need then really exploring each other. Lmfao. Will there be #noragrets in the morning (yes I said Ragrets not regrets. I blame Meet The Millers)


	10. Push And Pull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bibbity bobbity boo, got some Cullennilingus for you. haaaaaaaaaaaaa. Okay So I did not intend the first part of this to be smut. But you know what. It happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I have not written smut in 5eva omg.   
> Also me: How do I stop now? I forget how to stop!   
> Freya: Cullen can keep saying he’s sorry this way. She might not ever forgive him if he keeps it up though… cause… She likes how he apologizes lmfao.

He’d awakened before Freya. For a moment he had been completely confused, unsure of where he was. The feeling of the warm furs on his back, and the dying glow of embers to his left. And a weight across his chest. It had been a long time since he’d felt so - well rested. He couldn’t recall suffering any bad dreams - bad  _ memories  _ in his sleep. That was rare.

So deeply had he slept that the ever vigilant Commander needed another moment to gather his senses enough to realize the weight was a woman.  _ Freya _ . His cheeks flushed as the memory of their shared night came back. Her small frame was curled close to him, it was her head that rested on his chest, one arm spread across him and the other curled close to her chest.

Freya looked so small and peaceful. Her breath fluttered against his skin. The crimson mass of waves soft. She’d looked so worn down when he’d first seen her last night.  _ Where all that energy came from …  _ \- he caught himself. Without her ferocious scowl, or her cocky grin - she looked so vulnerable. Much of him didn’t want to untangle himself from her. Even if his arm pinned under her small frame did feel a little numb. Her one leg slightly tangled in his own. 

Pink lips slightly parted - so very kissable. He could recall the fire they inspired… Andraste - he wanted to kiss her right then. To explore every inch of her. To fully know her curves. 

Apparently his thoughts were not helping him out as desire pooled low in his gut. But he didn’t kiss her. Didn’t do anything but move to gently brush some hair from her face. Furrowing his brow as he studied her, fingers gently tracing the jagged raised scars along her jaw and neck. Those inspired something more like anger. He didn’t like the conflict inside himself. Because while a part of him still warned him - wouldn’t let him forget - she was a mage. Another part didn’t care. Someone had hurt her and he wanted to hurt them.

Air - he needed to get some air. And - his eyes found the window. First signs of dawn here starting… Wincing at the realization.  _ Makers breath _ \- he thought, - _ I have to go get ready for training the recruits…  _

__ If he wasn’t quick … someone would see him leave Freya’s cabin. Falling asleep hadn’t been the plan, but she’d been so tired, he’d been afraid to wake her. Thought he’d just let her get into a deep sleep then sneak away. Instead he’d been lulled to sleep by the gentle huffs of her breath on his chest… 

Carefully he tried to get free without waking her up. Breath hitching as she’d immediately reached back over him as he’d tried to move her hand. Closing his eyes and willing his damn body to behave. Maker - even asleep she was driving him crazy. Who knew someone could rile you up so much. One moment she could make him so -  _ angry _ . The next she made him want to kiss her. Made him… Yeah. No this was probably all on him as well. 

A slight groan left his lips as her hand lightly slid along his body. He truly was trying not to wake her up.. Freya - it felt weird even thinking her name. Yet strangely wonderful… Freya - she needed sleep more than he did. Eyes closed once more as he tried to focus, planning to try and get away again. But there was a - strange purpose to the new movement of her hand. Sliding down his abs and palming his cock. 

_ Makers breath _ , a throaty groan. He’d already been semi hard before she’d started to touch him, “ **what are you doing?** ” It was obvious as she gripped him. 

An amused mumble came from the no longer sleeping figure that curled against him, “ **I was checking if you were still here.** ” 

“ **And?** ” he inquired, smokey with desire.  _ So much for sneaking out _ …

“  **Hmmm….** ” sounded like she was thinking on it, her next stroke was firmer, drawing another sound from his lips, “ **I think you might be…** ” 

He looked to Freya, meeting her amber eyes, “ **so I am…** ” he needed to go - he had duties to attend to - people would be stirring soon - if they hadn’t already… But he couldn’t bring himself to say that 

“ **Strange. Well. I could hardly put this to waste…** ” gone was the innocent, peaceful look she’d had while asleep. There was something playful and a little bit wicked in those eyes of hers. Eyes he could get lost in. 

Damn it all.. He couldn’t resist the look she gave him - couldn’t resist her touch. His hand that wasn’t still pinned under her and brushed her cheek, guiding her into a kiss.  _ Last night shouldn’t have happened _ … This morning - should not be happening. But she was irresistible. A vision. The soft, pale skin - all of it flecked in a myriad of freckles. He wanted to pull her in closer, but after a moment of their kiss she’d given him the most deviant of grins as she rolled onto her hands and knees. Looking down at him, her tongue sliding over her lips. He’d reached for her. But she slid back. 

Huffed in frustration. His cock throbbed and he wanted to once more be reminded of how divine it felt to be buried inside of her. How tight she felt around him. The quiver of her muscles when she came.

She looked like a mischievous cat, prowling just out of reach. “ **Freya…** ” needy moan. She looked overly pleased at that. The fact she’d gotten him to say her name, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth as she crawled, delightful ass wiggling in the air teasingly. For a minute he forgot how to breath as he felt her exhale along his thighs. 

“ **Did you want me to touch you?** ” she purred in a wickedly pleased voice. 

“ **You’re having far too much fun with this,** ” he accused.

“ **No? Well… In that case** ” she’d started to draw back,

“ **Andraste - yes. I want you to touch me, I’d like that very much,** ” she stopped drawing back, humming as if debating if that was good enough, “ **Freya - please…** ”    
  


He wanted to move, pull over him and bury himself deep in the warm folds of her… Instead she moved kisses along the inside his thigh. Feather light, moving up, before he was watching her enthralled as she once more wrapped her hand around his hard cock. Licking her lips again as she met his eyes. 

Tongue flicking the head of his cock, drawing a needy gasp from his lips. Muscles tense in pleasure at the swirl of her tongue on him. His eyes had closed, “ **fuck,** ” - that seemed to make her pleased. She probably hadn’t heard him swear. Honestly… He didn’t swear often. But how could he not with that sinful tongue pressing against the sensitive flesh. 

A hitching breath caught in his throat as Freya’s lips wrapped around him. The ability to use any language absolutely left him at that moment. Her moth was warm. Velvet soft. Barely able to open his eyes to watch as her head bobbed, that tongue of hers - that  _ wicked  _ tongue - massaging along a vein on his cock. A drawn out moan left his lips. Louder than he’d ever intend to. 

Her cheeks hollowed, moaning around him. 

_ Andraste  _ \- she was far to good at this. He wasn’t sure he’d be the picture of stamina if she kept at the intensity she was. Her head bobbed, dipped, sloppily slurping at his erection. Drawing an assortment of moans and whimpers of pleasure from his lips.    
  
Minutes of pleasure passed. And he was sure he couldn’t last much longer. He still wanted to feel himself buried inside of her. Growling as she forced herself to take him in deep, feeling the head of his cock forced to the back of her throat. “Rey,” he’d gasped as his gut tightened. Fuck he was close, so close, “Freya,” breathy moan. Hand in her hair as he pulled her head back. Cock throbbing - aching for release. Wet, reddened lips grinning at him, a delighted squeal living her as he moved to tug her over him, before turning over so he was on top of her. 

It took every damn ounce of control not to just pound into her. Instead trailing hot kisses down her body. He didn’t tease her as he had the other night. Didn’t tease her as she had him. His own lips finding the delicious target between her thighs. Tongue wasting no time in tasting her. Tongue exploring her clit with firm purpose. 

Her head fell back as she cried out, it wasn’t enough. Maybe he was teasing her. Just in a different way. Sucking and licking her sensitive parts… A hand moving, rough calloused thumb rolling and pinching at her swollen mound. Drawing more noises that made his cock twitch. Tongue moving to penetrate her. Rubbing and curling. Lapping her up.

Her body squirming under him as once more his mouth closed around her mound. One hand splayed over her belly, holding her hips as still as he could. While he slid a finger from his other hand inside the wet warmth of her. Drawing out a mewling whimper. Curling and stroking. After a few adjustments of angle the red head was gasping loudly, hips bucking against the restraint. 

Sliding another finger into her. “ **Cullen, fuck, I’m -** ” she moaned, “ **I’m so close** ” she begged. Curling his fingers inside of her. Pleased with himself for having found just the right place to stroke inside of her to bring her to a rather loud orgasm. Clearly he hadn’t been thinking about them being heard. Her body shook around him. He didn’t relent. 

Twisting as her body was rocked with an intense orgasm. Cullen kissed his way back to her mouth. Fingers still inside of her, thrusting. He ached - ached to feel what it was to become one with her once again… He met her eyes, hand moving to cover her breast, gently rolling her nipple between his fingers. “Do you want to stop?” Cullen felt compelled to ask her. Meeting her eyes - she shook her head, Mouthing “ **no** ” - though no sound came out. As if her voice was lost in the quivering of her body. Once more she tried, her voice desire husked, “ **don’t stop.** ”

Her body tensed and quaked with another orgasm as he thrust into her…

It was another hour later before Cullen had carefully, and quietly slunk out of the cabin. He’d been worried about being spotted. But it seemed like he might have gotten away with it. A part of him felt - rather guilty for the night - and the morning. He wasn’t a templar. He had to remind himself again. So long in the order - so long hating mages - so long preached how wrong it would be for templars and mages to fraternize. 

If he was going to continue being honest with himself - he still had … strong issues with mages. They hadn’t talked. And Cullen felt… Conflicted about everything. Conflicted because he wanted it to happen again. And again… But he couldn’t. 

He was a man of discipline. Of duty. He wasn’t some virginal, pure person - not at all. But he didn’t lead by his desires. Cullen wasn’t the guy that went around and just - had - relations- with women. This was the first time he felt he’d betrayed his duty in giving into his desires… Because she was important to the inquisition. Again - if he was being honest with himself - she held more importance than he did. She had the mark. She was the one that had been inspiring the people.

It couldn’t happen again. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place. 

The morning had gone by well enough, having gotten the recruits started in their training while trying to coordinate the arrival of even more arriving. Yet… he kept thinking of Freya as the morning progressed. Time seemed to go by faster and he got a few looks from people that were used to him barking at them. 

He’d allowed the men to go for their lunch, and he had stood at the top of the hill near the Chantry. Looking out over the snowy land sprawled out past the gates.. “ **Andraste guide me,** ” he murmured under his breath as thoughts of the coral of her delicious tits filled his mind. Thoughts of her body refusing to leave his mind. Drawing the slightest curl to the corners of his lips. Shaking his head trying to rid himself of what he was sure was a stupid smile on his face. 

“ **Well well Commander-** ” a voice mused, “you sure have an - interesting way of apologizing…” 

_ Leliana _ . 

His face flushed as he shot her a look, “ **whatever do you mean,** ” how did she know everything? It was… Unsettling. 

Amusement was dancing in her eyes.At his expense clearly, “ **did you want me to go into detail?** ” 

Red faced, “ **No. How - I - Did - did you have someone look in on us…** ”

The stoic expression she held didn’t match the pure amusement in her eyes, “ **oh trust me Commander - they didn’t have to see anything.** ”

He opened his mouth - closing it once more. Jaw clenching. “ **Oh…** ”

“ **Oh indeed,** ” she mused.

“ **Maker** ,” running a hand through his hair. Side eying her, “ **I - it just - kind of happened. Accidentally…** ” 

She actually laughed, “ **oh yeah. Accidentally. Did you trip and -** ”   
  
“ **Okay, uh. I - it won’t happen again. Can - can we talk about something else?** ” …. probably.

“ **You’re no fun,** ” she sighed looking at him with a lack of belief in his statement. Not that he could fault her for it, it lacked the conviction he’d meant to put into it, “ **fine** .”

  
  
  
  
  


~~~~~~

  
  


Freya felt rested and properly fucked. She honestly would not have taken Commander Cullen for the type of guy that could have made her scream his name… No offense - he was attractive. But - well. The boorish side didn’t exactly scream ‘ _generous lover_ ’. Really, before last night, she’d have thought him selfish in the bedroom. Perhaps a bit of a prude. 

There was - nothing prudish _or_ selfish with what he could do with that tongue of his. Makers  _ BALLS  _ he was good with his tongue. Bonus was when he used his tongue like that - he wasn’t using it being an ass. 

Well. he’d apologized - and then he’d  _ apologized _ . One night of - really good sex - wasn’t exactly a turning point. You could have great sex and still hate someone. She doubted that an apology and great sex was enough to make him like her. She was a mage. Him a former templar. And she really didn’t enjoy the confusion it left her with after he’d left. 

Probably would have been a good to have had a talk. But - talking was - she didn’t want to. Because she had a feeling the more words shared - the more their… Conflicting viewpoints would rear up. And despite her - zealous wake up... She was a bit.

Disturbed.Uncomfortable. Surprisingly less about having had sex with Cullen - more… because she’d woken up with him  _ still  _ there. She wasn’t used to that. It wasn’t that she had felt terrible to realize it. At first she’d felt so - safe and protected in his arms. Someone she probably should be on high guard with. She’d gotten herself in a bit of a - weird place. She tipped back the mug she’d run off with some fresh tea, enjoying the warmth it brought her.

“ **So,** ” Varric said, a shit eating grin crossing his lips, “ **I see commander Cockblock failed to perform last night.** ” 

Immediately she choked. Sputtering as she inhaled what she was intending on just - well. Drinking. Wide eyed she looked at him, voice a little too shrill, “ **What?!** ”

“ **Damn freckles… You realize it’s me you’re talking to. You don’t gotta hide it from me. Remember? Your favorite confidant?** ” he teased, “ **and please - you have got the ‘** **_I had a_ ** **_really_ ** **_good night_ ** **’ look.** ”

Her cheeks were simply aflame and it seemed to bring the dwarf unspeakable amounts of amusement. He usually had to try pretty damn hard to get her to react even a fraction this embarrassed. Usually so brash and devil may care in her attitude, “ **W-what does this have to do with the Commander?** ” 

Varric looked at her like she got a knock on the head, “ **well… Considering Curly seemed to be in a good mood this morning… I doubt he caught wind of your adult fun time. Since he was so determined to keep you celibate** ” 

There it was. Still teasing. And her face became even hotter. He really wasn’t used to seeing her like this. That was when his eyes widened with the dawning of a realization, “ **Noooooooooooooooooooooooo** ,” he said in disbelief. A twinkle of absolute, pure astonishment and amusement. “ **Woooooooooooooooooooow**.” Varric proceed to burst out laughing heartily, “ **Andraste’s TITS freckles! I guess Curly might not have performed as Commander Cockblock - but I guess he did as Commander Cock.... Amiright?** ”

Freya gave him a withering look, but it had little effect. Due to the content of their conversation, and the fact she looked red as a tomato to boot, “ **Varric!** ” she lowered her voice, looking around making sure no one was listening, lamenting to him - “could you say that any louder?!” 

“ **Commander-** ” he started to speak even louder and Freya gasped in horror, her foot shooting to Varrics shin and kicking him with every ounce of strength in her. He yelped in surprise. 

“ **Makers chest hair Varric!** ” she hissed under her breath, still blushing. Slapping his shoulder after, and dragging him further away from anyone who might try listening in. Though the only thing that seemed to draw attention was her dragging Varric along as he laughed harder. 

“ **If you’re going to bring anyone’s fine chesthair into this - it should be mine,** ” he grinned, “ **Oh! What’s your Commander Cocks chest hair like? Curly always seemed like he might be baby smooth under that…** ” 

“ **Varric-** ” she lamented again. Finally stopping. Red as could be. Sighing heavily… Pleading with him, “ **Can - can we please keep this between us?** ”

He made it seem as if it was truly a great sacrifice, “ **Okay. Fiiiine…** ” but she should have known he wasn’t just going to let her off with that. “ **So… For like. The innocent curiosity of a writer - how good was it? Cause I haven’t sen Curly in taht good of a mood in -** ” he thought a moment, “ **ever… I am shocked. Genuinely shocked at myself - that I didn’t put two in two together. Or at least THINK Curly got lucky last night… I guess I just always saw him as some blushing virgin…** ”

" **Oh - he wasn't blushing, and I doubt he was a virgin.... well he did blush before but-** " she blurted out with a grin. Varric burst out laughing. She was embarrassed but - who else was she going to talk to about this? 

" **Andraste's tits...** " she sighed, before getting a wicked grin on her face, " **He came to apologize. You know. For being a** **_dick_ ** **before. If he apologizes like that I might not forgive him. He can keep coming to apologize to me like that....** " A giggle left her lips.

She had to admit, it felt good and lighthearted to banter with Varric over her sexual escapade with the Commander. Though the few times Cullen came into view the damn dwarf would get a look on his face like he knew his dirty little secrets - and in a way Rey guessed he did - " **You have to stop grinning at Cullen like A lecher - he'll** **_know_ ** **you know** " she complained. 

.

" **Cullen is it? First name bases... Probably had some practice using it last night, Ammi right?** " laughing at her expense. But Andraste's tits - this was Commander Cullen. 

“ **You’re a wretch,** ” - her voice full of resignation. But she couldn’t help but smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyways. I'm apparently a perv. Hope you enjoyed :') lmao


	11. Lonely Souls

Naturally they had not talked - not about what had happened during the - _apology_. They both seemed to be actively avoiding each other in private. Or a ‘Commander’, ‘Harold’ in passing. War room talks being the most words exchanged. She’d almost been relieved to go on the mission to Val Royeaux despite also thinking it was a waste of time. Freya could admit - to herself at least - that she was avoiding it. It felt - dangerous. Not physically. Somehow the physical kind of threat felt more familiar. Like that would be something she could deal with better.

It was unnerving, the feelings she’d catch herself falling into. The fact that she had to keep reminding herself he was a templar - former or not - and she was a mage. That he hated mages. He hated what she was. That it was nothing. It was just two people needing sexual release. And perhaps it disturbed her a little to much that she hadn’t felt the usual self loathing after she’d woken in his arms that morning… 

She was used to feeling that dirty kind of feeling. Momentary freedom from feeling alone. To realizing how alone she was, how she had to throw her body at people to feel that intimate connection. That brief time of feeling powerful. To the after, where the very word he’d thrown at her, she would throw back at herself. It was the delightfully vicious cycle she’d created for herself. 

Instead she’d felt a flutter in her gut at the thought of his eyes burning into hers… 

_Fuck_ . Her mind cursed, _The maker sure likes to bend me over and fuck me with my own actions…. If he was real and all. He was a damn nug fucking jerk_. The cool of the night was welcomed at least. Sleep as usual wasn’t her greatest friend. She’d slept maybe an hour before she’d gotten up. Walked a short ways from the camp, sitting on the edge of a hill peering out into the night. Thinking. 

Val Royeaux hadn’t been the complete waste she thought it would end up being. Downside being the templars marched out. Lord Seeker Bagofdicks had been a joy. It had been because Varric knew her so well that she hadn’t gone over and punched the man in the face. A well timed hand on her forearm and a low, “ **_let it go Rey, not worth the trouble it’ll cause._ **” 

But of all the people they could have met - she’d been surprised and thrilled to have Fiona - there now was an opening to speak to the rebel mages at Redcliffe. They had acquired through a - very strange sort of ‘treasure hunt’ - the first of two new connections for the inquisition. Sera. She’d liked the quirky elf. Hardly made sense at times. But Freya understood her talk of ‘the little people’. And while the mage part hadn’t made Sera super excited about Rey - through the short time travelling together, they’d become friendly. 

Vivienne though - oh that was a pompous bitch if she ever met one. Self righteous and self important. Her words breathed manipulation. But she had power. She did have connections in Val Royeaux. And as much as she loathed the idea… She could benefit the inquisition. So for the time they would have to co-exist. Let the inquisition and the enchantress use each other…

At least the bitch had left ahead of them to Haven. Sera had decided to join their travels as they made a detour to deal with some bandits, and close another rift in the Hinterlands. Weeks had gone by since leaving Haven. And they needed to return. They had the opening needed for the mages.... 

_Cullen is going to be rather pissed about that_ … She winced as he once again invaded her thoughts. Who fucking cared if he was pissed? She did. Fuck. She. Did. And she fucking loathed that. Closing her eyes, breathing in a deep gulp of air. 

Opening her eyes, looking to the moon. So far away. Hand reaching as if she was still trying to touch it. An empty ache caving into her chest. Dropping her hand. Voice low as she started to sing a little lullaby that one of the mages at the tower had sung to her when she’d first arrived. A Dalish lullaby. Sung so often it was ingrained in her mind. A little comfort in the abyss of her confused heart. Not loud as to draw attention from anyone standing guard - or wake anyone. But just a quiet song offered to the lonely moon. Eventually the words faded into hums. 

Stopping as someone walked over - the footsteps light, but she could hear. Going quiet as she looked back. 

Solas. 

He offered her a brief nod. “ **Sorry - did I wake you Solas?** ” Looking out back to the moon. Sorrow in her heart. 

“ **Not at all. I was intrigued though, to realize it was you singing a Dalish lullaby,** ” he pointed out.

She sighed, “ **learned it in the circle. One of the mages was a Dalish girl. She’d sing it to me to help me fall asleep. Comfort me.** ” 

“ **And it is now one you still find comfort in?** ” he inquired. She’d come to realize Solas was a man brimming with knowledge. It wasn’t really a surprise when Freya had come to realize he was inquisitive as well. He liked to debate. To challenge. He had a hungry mind.

Shrugging, “ **It -** ” she frowned, “ **It used to.Perhaps it does on a level. Not like it used to.** ” There wasn’t a full truth she was willing to share with Solas as to why she’d quietly sing a lullaby into the night. To the moon hanging above. But at least a part of it she could give. “ **I was very young when I was taken to the circle. Too young to understand why my parents would throw me away. The dalish girl - she was the one who showed me kindness when I arrived. Thelly- I cant recall her actual name. I think I kept messing up her name you know… Just ended up calling her Thelly, and she let me.** ”

Solas had moved, taking a seat next to her. “It must have been hard, being taken from what you’d known.”

Freya felt the ache tightening in her chest. “ **It would have been harder without Thelly. For over a year she made sure I had what I needed. Made it seem a little less scary… And then one day she was gone,** ” Freya’s jaw worked as she swallowed back more sorrow, “ **her harrowing. It - didn’t go so well. I’d learned that years later. She’d made that cold, lonely place feel a little more…** ”

“ **Less lonely?** ” Solas offered. Freya nodded. 

“ **But such is the fate of life. To crave for a place to belong,** ” she hadn’t intended the bitterness to enter her voice, “ **only the joke is that place doesn’t exist.** ”

“ **You doubt you’ll ever belong?** ” Solas questioned. Another nod. 

“ **Some people don’t get the happy endings in life,** ” speaking matter of factly, eyes going to the moon once more, “ **I’ll most likely be dead by the end of this.** ”

“ **You doubt you’ll survive it?** ” this time his tone was a bit surprised. She’d caught him off guard. 

She didn’t answer right away. When she did her voice was dry, empty, “ **I like to be a realist, despite my adoration of bullshitting.** ” 

He hesitated, his thoughts seeming to weigh heavy on him, “ **you still may yet survive this calling.** ”

“ **Do you ever tire of it Solas?** ”

A questioning look was given to her, “ **tire- of what?** ”

Looking over at him, “ **of being lonely**.”

“ **What makes you think I’m lonely?** ”

She gave a faint chuckle, “ **do you deny you’re lonely?** ” 

He was quiet for a moment, “ **lonely is sometimes better.** ” 

She understood that. “ **If you have people, they can betray you, or break your heart.** ” Matter of fact was her tone. Solas was quiet. 

“ **Sometimes, it’s worth the risk. To make connections…** ” he offered, perhaps to himself much as her.

She gave him a soft smile, finally a hint of teasing entering her voice again - “ **that an offer, Solas?** ” 

His lip twitched at the corner, “ **I’d like to consider you a friend.** ”

Freya bumped his shoulder with hers, “ **look at us. Bonding… Friend.** ” A moment later, she smiled, teasingly adding, “ **just try not to betray me or break my heart.** ” 

He had looked away, “ **I - will do my best to be gentle,** ” she laughed, he didn’t, “ **also try not dying.** ”

**“Here they say you have no humor, Solas. I knew you had it in you.** ” 

A smile on his lips as he looked back to her. 

Somehow it still didn’t seem to reach his eyes.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *deadpans the egg*


	12. Mess In The Making

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Templars or mages? 
> 
> What's a girl to do when it comes down beyond needing more magic, or needing those to lessen the magic of the breach... And comes down to saving those who need saving most.

Freya had made the decision to go to Redcliffe before heading back to Haven. She had no doubt at the time that it would make a few people - less than happy. And she had been very much right about that. Not everyone had been happy with how things had gone. And she’d also been - disturbed - with what they had found. Enraged even… Fiona must have lost her senses to resign herself and the mages that trusted her into the service of a Tevinter magister. Tevinter took slaves. Signing mages - her people - from one servitude to another. 

With this horror realized, fresh in her mind, Freya had thought to go back right away. She’d played the part - barely - of civility with Alexius. And though she was a bit weary of Dorian and Felix - they had seemed more… Genuine in their intentions. And she wanted to help bring Alexius to heel. Whatever the Venatori had been up to could not be good.

But back at Haven - she was getting a headache from they match between advisors. Rather more - between Leliana against Cassandra and the Commander. Voices heated. She let her mind wander a bit. Thinking to the new companions for the inquisition. Leliana had sent people out to check out a company called the Bulls Chargers. Mercenaries. Some interesting conversation had come about when she’d first returned. He’d come right out saying he was a spy for his people. She’d appreciated that - being up front with her. A clear ‘you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. And we’ll be fine’. Blackwall - the Warden was an interesting sort. 

“ **Templars must help us close the breach! The order was** **_founded_ ** **to fight magic,** ” The Commander challenged. She closed her eyes and pressed her thumb and index finger into the corners of her eyes. Wishing it enough to clear the throbbing in her skull this was all giving her. 

Leliana had made some comment on how they’d have to convince the Lord Seeker to come out of hiding. To even be convinced to talk to them. She wanted more information. Mages -  _ her  _ people - they were being threatened with slavery. There was no indication - no solid indication - that the templars were in an immediate threat. There had been some theories - disturbing truly - that Varric had shared with her after coming across red Lyrium in the hinterlands. 

If only his connections had gotten back to him. If she had more information she could make a more informed decision. She hated the weight of them expecting her to make a choice about what was the better path. Obviously she was more comfortable with the idea of working with the mages. 

The arguing resumed. They needed magic to strengthen the mark. Then the templars could weaken the mark. “ **Makers** **_fucking_ ** **balls!** ” she finally snapped. Dropping her hand and looking at them in pure exasperation, “ **Can’t we just send two groups out. One to help the mages and others to talk with the Templars? Since the Commander is such a champion for the** **_‘just’_ ** **\- Can’t he go off and try and woo the templars himself. I doubt they’d listen to a fucking thing I had to say.** ”

“ **Forgive me, Harold,** leliana started, “ **but you are - well. The Harold of Andraste - you assume they would not listen. But it is you - not the Commander that they need to convince them…** ”

**“Why? Because he could be under my thrall?** ” Leliana did not reply, but her silence was enough - and why should that have hurt? To be reminded that people thought the worst of mages - she decided to change the area of conversation“ **Fiona has indentured herself and the mages to a Tevinter fucking magister. Into slavery! Isn’t that more pressing? What the fuck are we fighting for if we leave them to that fate? Allow the Venatori to make such a brazen fuck you to Fereldan? I can reach out - go with that Dorian Pavus.** ”

“ **You will not do any such thing! He’s a Tevinter himself!** ” The roar of Cullens voice was enough to make her visibly flinch. The Commander was clearly in a foul mood. Her heart hammered in her chest. Jaw tense. 

“ **They are in a more immediate danger than the templars… In fact - aside from a lack of sense - it seems the Templars are not in harms way. Unless you’ve got some information I do not,** **_Commander_ ** **,** ” her voice was a dangerous sort of calm. Cold frost crisp in the air. 

“ **The mages have already shown their** **_inadequacy_ ** **\- to accept such an offer with the Tevinter magister - they are all mad in their desire for power. Self serving and treacherous. They would doom us all to save themselves. They did this to themselves! Let them reap what they sow! We** **_cannot_ ** **trust the mages,** ” his voice a snarl, dripping with his hate of them. He  _ hated  _ them. Hated  _ mages _ . 

She was a mage. Her face was blank. His eyes moved from Leliana - falling on hers. She tried to stay calm - tried to not let her emotions flair out of control. She wanted to scream, break things. Throw things at his stupid pretty face. Worst of all? She wanted to just break down. She was exhausted of enduring the harsh venom of people. She hated most of all how much more it hurt hearing it from him. Freya felt if she didn’t get angrier - she’d just fucking cry - “ **They where trying to survive! Fiona made a big fucking mistake but she was trying to save her people!** ” her voice was outraged, fed up with Cullens anti mage agenda. “ **Do you know what that’s like Commander? Truly know? To realize that maybe - maybe you have to do the most** …” her voice cracked, “ ** _deplorable_** **thing you can think of to try keeping other safe? Because I do. I know how it eats away at you from the inside out. To worry and pain over if you’ve done enough to keep them safe - so much it twists in your gut and leaves you in ruin.** **The mages** ** _deserve_** **better. Even** ** _Fiona_** **deserves better. We didn’t ask to be as we are.** “ Her voice was full of passion - of rage, “ **you see the mages as monsters Commander. But we’re just people. We live and breath. We** ** _feel_** **. We** ** _fear_** **. We have to grow up and listen to the venom people spit at us and have to endure the isolating realization that people rather condemn us and think the worse before they entertain the chance that maybe - just maybe - we’re not a monster. You would - you would** ** _condemn_** **them Cullen - condemn them for making a** ** _stupid mistake_** **while in** ** _fear_** **for their lives - because so many of would rather die then be powerless to stop our abusers for fear of being murdered literally, or emotionally with tranquility. Cause their word against ours - theirs is the only one that matters-** ” she sneered at him, “- **or do we deserve whatever we get? Magics enough to condemn us to suffering? Mean that templars can _take_ and _take_ and _take. We're just mages after all. Fucking filth of the earth_**.”

Cullen had gone pale, maybe he would have attempted to say something. Maybe any of them would have, but the door burst open at that moment, it was Varric, panting, “ **Sorry to -** ” looking at the assortment of expressions around the room. From rage to shock… “ **Uh - sorry to interrupt… But that thing we talked about Freckles? I’ve got some bad news…** ”

She closed her eyes and sighed heavily knowing instantly what he was talking of, “ **those fucking idiots.** ” 

Varric gave an apologetic smile, “ **not going to disagree… But from the reports I’ve gotten back - I think only the higher ups know. Meaning a bunch of them are going to be exposed to it - and not even know what it will cost them…** ” 

“ **Fuck.** **_FUCK_ ** **!** ” she grabbed the piece on the table for Therinfal Redoubt that had been near her, flinging it against the wall. Shocking them all a bit more. Leliana looked a bit disturbed. Unused to not knowing what was going on.

“ **What are you on about Varric,** ” the spymaster asked.

“ **_Red lyrium_ ,** ” Varrics voice was unusually sober, a hint of fear even, “ **the templars are using red lyrium. We have to intervene before it’s too late... if it isn't yet...** ”

She glared at Cullen, “ **Guess you can breathe easy Commander - the mages will have to wait. Seems your precious Templars need saving first.** ” 

Catching the dry reply of Leliana to the commander, “ **guess you have some more apologizing to do…** ”

  
“ **Cassandra, please prepare to leave. I’d have you come with me,** ” Freya turned then - walking out, calling Varric to follow her, “ **send someone to get the mounts ready. Gather supplies as quick as we can. We need to leave as soon as possible for Therinfal Redoubt** ”

  
  
  


~~~~~~~

Cullen was left watching her storm out. He didn’t feel like he could breath easy. He’d been so worked up he hadn’t been thinking - hadn’t been thinking about his words and hadn’t been thinking about how those words might sound to a mage. To  _ her _ . 

_ Makers breath  _ \- he’d really fuck up again. Letting his emotions get reign of him - and allowing them to be fueled by the long learned prejudice. It had started with him and Leliana. And something about her taking the mages side seemed to set him off. Not because he didn’t know she supported mages. But perhaps it had something to do with all those years ago when she’d travelled with the Hero of Ferelden. Back then so in his own agony - still so lost in his own torture. Leliana, the hero, wynn, zevran - all those whom had been there had left him scarred with betrayal… Even if it wasn’t them that had hurt him. Betrayed him.

So many years later - and he still could let those feelings surface with too much ease… He’d looked at Leliana after her comment about apologies… He knew she was talking about Freya, and had he not felt like all the blood had left his body at the realization of how much he’d ended up hurting Freya - he may have blushed. 

Watching her leave with Varric and Cassandra, Josie had also gone to start helping get things sorted for them to leave - Cullen had wanted to run after Freya. Stop her. Talk to her. Take back his haste words. But he felt stuck to the spot. Looking at Leliana, “ **I was rather cruel - wasn’t I…** ” his voice weak…

“ **You seem to have - struck a nerve,** ” Leliana said humorlessly. 

Freya was gone before he could try and talk to her...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have plans! I swear!


	13. The Looking Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting out of your head takes on a whole new meaning.

Why was it her brain insisted on feeling much to large for her skull? The throbbing was nauseating. Darkness all around her. It was as if her brain had shut down for a moment.  _ My eyes - they are closed _ \- she told herself after a panic in the dark. But each eyelid felt like lead. Hissing at the strange green haze before her. An - ominously familiar kind of haze. She could hear echoes of voices … “ _ But - you have only raised one flag - the peoples flag - not the Chantry or the Templars? _ ” Shivering as she heard her own voice echo - “ _ Because without the people. Neither mean a damn thing, do they? _ ”

A dark chuckle rumbled through the haze. Forcing her eyes open as she squinted. Heart hammering in her chest. Mouth instantly going dry. The Lord Seeker - he’d turned. Dragged her - into a rift? It had gone white - so bright… That was why she’d closed her eyes. The pain had been so much… 

Fuck. Fuck was she in the fade? Mist rolled through the strange structure… Blurry yet solid.. Real yet? Fuck. She was  _ fucked _ . Gnawing at the inside of her bottom lip she slowly started to move forward. Careful, alert, and fucking  _ afraid _ . Things distorted in the mists. Flashes of - things -of bodies… Dead… Alive… Apparitions? Freya wasn’t sure she wanted to know. 

Flickering - torches faintly flickering. Fires on - things… As she got closer she realized the other fires were on bodies. Contorted and burned as they had been at the temple of Sacred Ashes. One … one even - she could swear it looked like  _ Taleigha _ . Forcing herself to keep walking. _ Move forward. Keep going forward _ … She continued to implore herself. 

Though she trembled, her staff in hand. Ready for anything. So she thought. So she hoped…

Stopping dead in her tracks as she saw two people in front of her. Josephine -  _ and Cullen _ . She forgot to breath for a moment. “ **C-Cullen?** ” - no. It couldn’t be him. Cullen was back in Haven. So was Josie. Both had not come. They were not here. They were  _ safe _ . 

Freya jumped at the sharp gasp that came from the behind them. Eyes instantly flickering to the figure.. Watching it come into place, gripping her staff and getting ready to attack. Hesitating.

_ Leliana…  _

The voice had hints of her in it - but - it was wrong - it was so … wrong… “ **Is this shape useful?** ” Leliana - no - the thing masquerading as Leliana sounded excited, full of anticipation. Enjoyment in what was to come, “ **will it let me** **_know_ ** **you?** **_Everything_ ** **tells me about you.** ” The thing - the - demon - it walked around Josie and Cullen. It’s eyes glinting wickedly, delight a sit’s blade raised, “ **so will this... Watch.** ” 

Blade pressed against the Commanders throat - and despite her telling herself he was not here. He was safe. All three of them safe - far, far away, her heart leapt to her throat. Stepping forward fearfully - “ **What is it you’re trying to do, demon? Tempt me? Are you trying to copy me?** ” she hissed, eyes not leaving Cullens - or… fake Cullen. He had to be fake. He was fake. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t real… This - this…. Wasn’t real… The thin trickle of blood from were the blade was pressing -  _ wasn’t _ real...

No answer - not with words. Just a blade sliding along Cullens throat. Blood gushing thickly from the gaping wound as he slid to the ground wordlessly. It wasn’t real - this wasn’t real - “ **NO!** ” she couldn’t help herself. The demon was stalking, and she was by Cullen. Blood gushing, eyes fading. Hands on the blood. It was useless. This was useless. She chanted in her own mind -  _ Not real. Not real. NOT REAL _ ! Eyes closed… Taking every bit of her to force them back open. To leave his corpse - _ it’s _ corpse. She couldn’t afford to leave herself open to attack. She had to keep her wits about her…

But it was horrifically real. It felt real. His skin felt real. So had the blood. The smell of it. The iron of it heavy in the stale air. The thing laughed, backing away, mocking, “ **are you trying to copy me?** ” The fake Leliana backed into a - rift? Something. Twisting green and black… As Josie started moving forward. Knife now in her hand. “ **Being you - will be so much more interesting than being the Lord Seeker.** ” 

The thing disappeared around a pillar, she stepped quickly to look around it, but… The demon was gone? “ **Do you know-** ” Freya gasped and spun around. The false Josie seemed to have materialized behind her, “ **do you know what the inquisition can become?** ” - it was there - then it wasn’t. Because by the time she’d turned the thing was gone… From an unknown shadow the distorted voice of Josie came joyfully, “ **you’ll see… When I’m done the Elder One will kill you and ascend. Then I will be you.** ”

She closed her eyes and listened. No sounds of feet - just - muffled noises all around. Once more she looked around, “ **so, this fuck thinks he can become divine? The most predictable ambition. Look at me. I’ll be a god.** ” Somehow being flippant and mocking helped ease her a little. Only a little. But she’d take it. 

Though the laugh unnerved her just the same, “ **he** **_knows_ ** **, he was** **_there_ ** **,** ” the imposture stepped out again - in front of Freya - “ **glory is coming. And the Elder One wants you to serve him - like everyone else** ,” a twisted smile on its face, “ **by dying in the right way.** “

She faked a yawn, “ **keep talking then.** ” Still grasping at a bravado that was much weaker than she cared in this hellish place. This perverse version of Josie backed into smoke and disappeared.

_ Fuck _ … 

“ **I am not your toy,** ” a voice snarled behind her. Familiar hints made perverse by the echoes and distortions. Almost his voice - yet off enough to make her feel ill. Cullen. It was Cullens voice - she spun around to see the Commander… “ **I am Envy - and I will know you!** ” It made her feel faint. Watching the hateful impersonation. Realizing why of all the advisors it was Cullen that disturbed her the most… And it wasn’t because of his distaste for her - for mages…

Fuck. She had feelings for him. Fighting from letting this thing see how much seeing Cullen was fucking with her. Despite the fact her hands coated in false Cullens blood.

That fucking knife was clenched in his fists, “ **tell me, Harold - in your mind -** ” stalking behind a - fuck it was her. A shadow of her. Black and solid. Eyes a glowing green. But the form of it - it was her. This thing plunged the knife into her back without hesitation - into her shadow selves back. It made her shudder, “ **tell me what you think.** ” the form disappeared, and the fake Cullen appeared behind a copy of the war table, voice twisted, snarling - “ **what you feel** ”

The shadow self of Freya gasped out in agony beside her, making the real Freya jump back, as black blood spew from her. Heart jumping again into her throat... More so when she felt the odd lightness of her staff - looking and seeing a knife -  _ the  _ knife. Dropping it like it was made of hot coals and backing away. Eyes flickering and looking for her staff… Finding it oddly returned to her back. She  _ felt  _ mad. This place was going to drive her fucking mad! 

Cullen - no - the thing - the demon Envy - it was gone. Before her stretched the foggy halls. She could see no one - hear no one. She was going to die here. Mind fucked by a demon. 

_ No _ , she told herself,  _ not like this _ . Once more Freya walked further into the land of horror. Deceptively placid, decorated in the macabre. Green throbbed in areas… Heading for an archway and holding her breath as she stepped through. 

And there she was again. On her knees chained - it was - it was her in the dungeon - before her Casssandra. Around her the guards. Cassandra interrogating her - accusing her. 

_ Maybe I should be thankful it’s only delving into recent thoughts _ … Mercy that. 

A door - she jumped for it, flinging it open, standing ready… More...  _ illusions _ … 

“ _ Our enemies have surrendered unconditionally… _ ” the voice rang, another to the side “ _ the inquisitions strength rivals any kingdom in Thedas… _ ”

Then her own voice - yet… not “ **Our reach begins to match my ambition. But we will strive for more.** ” _ No. No no no no no _ . 

“ **Is imitating what you can’t have your only pleasure demon?** ” she threw at the shadows around her. 

It was amused, “ **accusing, trying to find my weakness? Is that the woman you are?** ” A chorus of laughter following. She flinched as the illusion burst in flame. And then was gone. Starting forward before Veilfire spewed around her. She jumped back.

“ **Makers balls.** ” She had to find a way around. Carefully skirting about. 

The voice returned, “ **were you in earnest when you picked the people's flag for the standards? For when I am you, the people will never forget what you do to them.** ” 

Little did envy know - it gave her the resolve she truly needed. She’d make it through. Make it out. Not for her. For them. She would not let this demon take her. If she couldn’t make it out… she’d find a way to kill this demon even if it killed her. More lies whispered around her. She pushed forward. Avoiding the flames. Finally to a point she couldn’t fully get around. Taking a breath she leapt through, hissing in pain as her arms felt the burning heat. Teeth grit. And not knowing how it was she could get further … She looked around…

_ “  _ **_You’re hurting - helpless - hastey_ ** -” a voice - a different voice. Not distorted… Familiar? Yet not… “ **_What happens to the hammer when there are no more nails?_ ** ”

Envy snapped at the voice, questioning it. She wondered… Could this be what she needed. A door - she saw a door and pushed through hopefully… Into a room… The door closed behind her. It was odd, wrong, upside down in places, right side up in others. Sideways in some. Looking around and seeing no way out. Like some fucked up bedroom… Her heart fell, “ **damn it.** ”

Moving back towards the door - hand reaching out… 

“ **Wait-** ” he called after her spoke, she turned on her heels. Nothing… but she felt compelled. Stepping from the door and turning fully, heading for the center, “ **envy is hurting you-** ” that came from behind her, she twisted… Nothing… “ **Mirrors on mirrors on memories- a face it can feel but not fake. I want to help...** **_you_ ** **not envy,** ” She stepped around in a small circle, eyes looking through the room. Familiar - the presence - the voice. It felt… known.

“ **Who - who are you?** ” she stuttered in confusion, “ **I- I’ve seen you before… Haven’t I?** ” She wasn’t going mad, she’d already done and done it, hadn’t she? 

“ **I’ve been watching- I’m Cole. We’re inside you,** ” 

_ Well there was a frightening place to be, _ Freya thought to herself. 

“ **Or.. I am.** ” she turned again on her heels, “ **you’re always inside you…** ” the voice once more behind her - she turned again, “ **easier to hear - harder to be a part of what you’re hearing.** ” It was a boy - maybe in his late teens. Wirey and thin. Shaggy hair under his hat, pale eyes looking at her … he was upside down… “ **but I’m here hearing - helping - I hope… Envy hurt you -** **_is_ ** **hurting you. I tried to help - then I was here - in the hearing… it’s… it’s not usually like this.** ” The final bit sounding a little confused. 

She was confused… “ **nothing of what you’re saying makes sense...** ”

A sound outside the room drew both of their attention a moment later. Nothing was there. She turned back around and he was now right side up, sitting, “ **I was watching, I watch. Every Templar knew when you arrived… They were impressed,** ” she doubted that - Templars impressed by a mage… That sounded like the start of a joke, “ **but not like the Lord Seeker…** ”

“ **The Lord Seeker is an Envy demon...It wants to be me.** ” 

“ **Yes** ,” Cole nodded, “ **It twisted the commanders - forced their fury - their fight - their red inside...** “  _ Red Lyrium _ she thought. Starting to slowly get hold of the way Cole spoke, “ **anyway - you’re frozen. Envy is trying to take your face. I heard it and I reached out - and then in. And then I was here.** ”

He was familiar but she had no idea how. He was - a spirit? “ **So you’re a spying phantom who accidentally enters minds? Did - I miss anything?** ” 

“ **If it bothers you - I can make you forget? That helps… no. You need all of you right now to fight. Maybe later...** ” the boy had part of a conversation with himself. But she didn’t want to forget. As he resolved - she also was resolute in the idea of keeping all of her.

She shook her head, “ **no** .” Cole nodded… “ **How is my body frozen back in the waking world?** ”

“ **Thoughts are fast. We’re here… Outside a blade is still falling. Hanging in the air like a sunset…** ” Weird… This all was so strange. 

“ **If no times passing… Does that mean I’m safe?** ”

“ **No** .” Of course not. That would be to easy. “ **It would be good if you got out.** ”

“ **Alirght Cole... “ she started, frown creasing her brow, “if you really want to help - how do I get out?** ” 

“ **It’s** **_your_ ** **head,** ” she huffed in frustration at that, “ **I hoped** **_you’d_ ** **know how to stop it…** ” 

_ Fuck _ . “ **Well. I don’t.** ” It was starting to feel rather hopeless…

“ **All of this is Envy…** ” Cole stood, walking over the bed he’d been sitting on, “ **people - places - power. If you keep going… Envy stretches. It takes strength to make more. Being one person is hard. Being many - too many - more and more - and envy breaks down… You… break out?** ” 

She thought - maybe - she might actually understand what he meant by that, “ **so - if we keep moving… in my head… We tire envy into submission?** ”

“ **Maybe-** ” he said, “ **I hope it helps…It’s more than sitting here waiting to lose your face.** ”

That was a good point. 

  
_ Keep going then. Don’t stop. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soon we will have more Cullen! I promise. We need our darling Commander. But for now we end this chapter here. I've got the next few planned so hopefully those chapters come nice and quick. hehehe. There is some - uh - apologizing that needs to be going on!


	14. Skeleton Of Bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay ugh. My heart. Anyways. I had Fleurie’s “There’s A Ghost” playing on repeat for most of this and just. Bye world. I’m hurt. Lmfao.

There had been a million things that Cullen had wanted to say to Freya immediately after she’d snapped at him. And he hadn’t said a single one of them. As much as he wanted to talk to her - to make things right… There had been important things to prepare - distractions. Excuses not to put himself out on a line and try to make things right. There had been soldiers to get prepared for the trip to Therinfal Redoubt with Freya. 

She was going to the Templars - and he hadn’t felt like he’d won a thing. He felt - guilty - for his words. He knew she was right. About his feelings. But she didn’t - she didn’t understand why. How for so long he felt like a ghost of a man. A shadowed reflection of who he had once been. How he’d survived the torture of a blood mage. How everyone said he’d won his battle - but how he’d come out feeling full of cracks, full of breaks and shatters and pieces scattered. 

How it had changed him - how while he’d resisted - it had still in other ways possessed him. Poisoned him. But that truth about himself - he hid it. How he felt like the good man he’d been only haunted him. How this - angry bitter beast that had spread through his skin felt like a stranger. The man he’d been since… Never more wanting to be put into a place of being a… Of a  _ victim _ . Powerless and weak.

It wasn’t easy to tell anyone the guilt he felt for surviving. How it gnawed at his gut late at night, twisted and gnashed at the back of his mind in the quiet moments. Why he’d lived when so many died. It had to be for something. Maker it had to be. And for a long time he couldn’t figure it out - figure out why. He’d allowed Meredith to take that darkness in him, not questioned her when he should have. The inquisition was supposed to be his turning point...

But here he was. Like a dog that never learned to heel. Or forgotten how. Snapping at those trying to be good to him - show him kindness. 

She was right. And it disgusted him. She was right and he hated himself all the more for it. His way of thinking was wrong. He knew it. It wasn’t that Cullen wanted to think that way - he wanted to change. To expel the ghosts of his past trauma, be cleansed of it. To be so fresh, so untouched by the worse evils life so liked to scar with.

Cullen didn’t open up to people - not really. Maybe to an extent. But his true struggles he tried to keep close to his chest. He looked at his demons and fought them alone, never ending. Never really defeating them. Freya’s words might as well have been a spear to the heart. A well deserved one. She refused to listen to the -  _ evil  _ in him. 

Freya had no idea how much he admired her. She drove him mad, she provoked the worst parts of him… Confronted them…

But somehow - some way… She stoked the good. Perhaps he was just a fool. That wouldn’t surprise him… But just that one night - it had felt like she broke him out - him - the old him. Laid him bare. Her kiss had felt like fire that burned away all that had been paralyzing him. Keeping him in his prison of despair. Of bitterness and self loathing. 

Yet he’d hesitated in going after her - and she’d been gone from Haven before he could say a thing. He could just see the few mounts, and a line of foot soldiers as they disappeared down the trail. Off into what would no doubt be dangerous.  _ Everything  _ she seemed to be involved in was dangerous. It put his heart in his throat. Choking him as he feared he may never get the chance to talk to her. To lay bare his faults and hope she could see it wasn’t her that was… worthless. 

It was him… 

He’d hesitated outside the tent, stepping in as Leliana looked back towards him, “ **what do you need, Cullen.** ” 

Even Leliana sounded frustrated at him. His golden eyes flickered to the ground. She waited. Sighing as she turned to him. “ **I - do you ever feel like you’re possessed? Not by a demon - but by another side of yourself? One you hate?** ” 

Quiet. He’d looked up, seeing her consider his words, “ **I think it’s something we all face, Cullen. I’m sure we’ve all done things we loathe, and had those things twist us in ways we’d - rather not.** ”

Frowning not because he didn’t agree. But rather because he was uncomfortable. He’d come - he’d started this conversation. One he’d probably be able to put off for as long as he lived. But he needed to change. “ **I feel like who I’ve become is an abomination to who I was - before…** ” shuffling, looking away, “ **I think I’ve always been a bit more … inclined to being harsh with you because - because you saw me - there… like that. And…** ” 

“ **I remind you of one of the worst - if not the worst times in your life?** ” 

Guilt aching through his body, “ **it’s… Wrong… How I was. How I was thinking then. And it still has such a grip on me. I felt betrayed - betrayed by -** **_her_ ** **. She didn’t. She hadn’t betrayed me in the least. But I felt it then. I felt it for her - for you… For all of you that saw me like that. But who I was before would abhor this… hatefully malformed version of himself.** ”

She gave a half smile, “it just might be part of getting older. Realizing those idealistic, bright eyed youth we’d been would hate the bitter creatures we became,” nodding to the cot, sitting on a stool herself. Cullen sitting and putting his head in his hands, “most don’t realize it you know. Where the darkness is in them, or don’t care to change it. Give in. You’re trying to fight it.”

“ **And you don’t?** ” he asked, “ **you didn’t let the ugly things in your past color you against an entire people.** ”

“ **Well. Templars are kind of assholes,** ” she said, Cullen gave her a look, but couldn’t help chuckle at her smirk, “ **we all have wrong ways of thinking. Learned through teachings of those we looked up to, or through the pains we suffered. Easier to learn - harder to break. You are strong Cullen. You can do it… But maybe you need to stop trying to do it on your own. Stop trying to be perfect before you let someone in…** ” she had a look, and a deliberate meaning undertoning her words, “ **if you let someone who can help you see the darkness in you and nurture the light. If you don’t. You might just end up losing them - and yourself…** ”

“ **It’s - just that…** ” _ I might keep hurting her _ … “ **what if…** ”  _ what if she sees me as I am and leaves me behind for it _ ?

Unspoken - but understood to some level at least. “ **Well Commander Cullen. The thing about never trying. Is you will never know.** ”

Nodding. Brow still furrowed, “ **you might be right.** ”

“ **I am right.** ”

  
  


Days passed. With bated breath he’d waited for word from Cassandra. Fearing what could happen. The birds arrival had brought relief. It was brief. Freya had survived. The templars were to head to Haven. A few senior officers coming ahead. The judgement of them being put off until they returned, and all could speak together. A demon had taken the place of the Lord Seeker. Red lyrium… Not much was mentioned other than that there was a battle. And they had won the day. 

It was the next day when another letter arrived - for Cullen. It was scrolled in Varrics handwriting. Arrived by a runner not employed by Leliana. A million things could have been expected. But what was within the page was not one of them.

_ Curly. Freckles here would probably kick my ass if she knew I was writing to you. And I hope I’m not wrong in writing to you. But what happened at Therinfal Redoubt was bad. Really bad. The big creepy red lyrium soldiers bad enough. But Freya… _

_ Listen. She’s strong in so many ways. But she’s also just one person. And people tend to be fragile. Freya faced an envy demon. She said he mind fucked her, she wouldn’t tell me what she saw. _

_ But Cullen - she’s having nightmares. And it’s starting to worry me. Shit. It scares me. We’ve all heard her … I think she knows. But no one wants to say anything. Afraid it might break her. Even the strong have a breaking point.  _

_ I think you care. And I think there might be something you can do. Just you know - avoid being a raging dick… _

_ She’s calling out for you most nights. She sounds scared. In her sleep that is. So please, when we get back. Pull out the nice Cullen. The one that made her smile. Not the one that made her look like she was about to climb over the war table and beat you with one of those little toy castles.  _

  * _Varric_



_ Ps: if you do hurt her, I promise you I will personally castrate you _ (a little messy drawing of a blade and balls) 

He had read it and guilt roared in his heart. Cullen didn’t like not knowing what to do - didn’t like feeling powerless like this. He’d pushed so hard for her to go to get the Templars. He couldn’t help but feel it was his fault. Maybe if he’d supported her, she’d have already left for Redcliffe instead by the time Varric returned… Perhaps that would have been the safer path for her. 

Fuck - he’d allowed that darkness in him to fight for what he felt made everyone - no.  _ Himself  _ more safe. And sent her into the jaws of an Envy demon… He knew what it was like. To have someone in your head, to have your mind turned on you and the violence it took to keep from giving in. 

Cullen didn’t like to think of how many times giving in had tempted him when he’d been tortured. The desperation for it to stop. How real the temptation was just for the sake of making it stop. He’d been left stewing in his guilt for days. Waiting for them to arrive back. Unsure how long they’d be gone. 

Most nights he’d lain awake much like he had this one. Waiting for sleep. Worrying endlessly for Freya. The mage that had gotten under is skin. The one he was desperate to see once more… The mage he wished he could have protected from the demon of Envy… 

He’d instantly sat up as the entrance to his tent was opened, ready to bark at whoever had just intruded without announcing themselves. Or fight … The form was a small, frail sort… Barely enough light from outside for him to realize … it was Freya. Short shaking breaths coming from her… “Freya?” 

Had he fallen asleep? Was this some kind of dream, “Freya I-”  _ I’m so sorry _ … Her finger pressed over his lips.

“Shhh-” her voice filled with an aching, an unspoken pain, “please just - dont. I - can you just… hold me?” 

The despair in her voice cut him to the wick. So much to say. But she’d asked him not to speak. Not to say a word. It was hard, biting back the words. But he moved, pulling the blankets aside as a response. She pulled her boots off and carelessly threw her over clothes to the side. Leaving only the thin white linen. Crawling beside him. Shaking.

Pulling the blankets and furs up once she was in place. He felt her hand, gentle and shaking along his jaw, hesitating, as if fearful… he held his breath as the touch moved along his throat. Trying not to flinch from the light touch. Not because he didn’t like it. Honestly… It tickled a bit. She let out a relieved, shaking breath. . 

It surprised him. His searched the little of what he could see in the dark of her face. It had been as if she expected to find - something else. His mouth was dry… She moved, rolling over. Back pressed into him.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close. Listening to her breaths. Short. Shaking. Quiet. As she tried to hide from him the fact she’d now dissolved into tears. And it broke his heart. What did he do for her… What could he do for her? 

Gently he reached, cupping her cheek, wet with tears, moving her to look at him as he pushed himself up enough to look at her, thumb brushing her cheek tenderly… Whatever words his heart wanted him to say lost by the time his mind got them to his mouth. Instead he just looked at her, quietly, hoping even in the dark she could see it. See he was there. See she was safe… He kissed each cheek gently…

Freya turned back towards him, before burying her face against his chest. Her sobs muffled against him as he did as she’d asked. Held her in silence, hoping maybe - just maybe. She could feel safe. Maybe she could have fretless sleep…

At some point he’d fallen asleep after Freya had exhausted herself, the short sobs falling into deep, troubled breaths. But when he’d waken - he was alone. Sitting up quickly he’d wondered if maybe he really had been dreaming… Hoped maybe he had. Because thinking of her that - it made him distraught.

Getting up he’d looked around, to see that the group had returned. Seeing Cassandra… Who already was fuming around camp… Angry, “ **What do you mean she’s** **_gone_ ** **, Solas?!** ” 

“ **Well, Seeker. Freya’s not here. Varric left a vague note. Said they’d be back as soon as they could. There was… urgent business. They didn't say what that urgent business ways...** ”

She was gone.

His heart felt like it stopped.

Like his world just... _stop_...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dundundun DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN


	15. Forsaken Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly Freya needs more torment. Hehehehehee. Might have Cullen leading the next chapter. We'll seeeeeeeeeee,

She wasn’t a soldier. She wasn’t built to do this - to go to war. Freya felt like she was made of glass. Like she was shattered after the Envy demon. Cole helped. But even Cole couldn’t have shielded her from what Envy had in store for her before she managed to stretch the fucking thing enough to escape. The spirit had been rather… distraught over not being able to help more. As if the more pain Envy inflicted … the louder it was to Cole. 

He wasn’t like a demon… Not a twisted thing, he was good. He wanted to help and she didn’t mind him sticking around. Just told him to be quiet around Haven for the time being. He’d wanted to come with her. But she’d implored him to stay at Haven. Help - but not to reveal himself - yet. She needed to make sure he’d be safe when that happened. Or she’d never forgive herself. To many would attack the poor boy. As most people had the unfortunate tendency of attacking what they did not understand. Or what they refused to try understanding. She’d told him to stay close to Solas. She could trust him. 

It was his love of spirits and knowledge of them that she’d felt Cole would be safest by his side. Varric was the only other one that knew about Cole. And he’d rather taken to him… Everyone else conveniently … forgot. Or failed to notice him. That was okay for now. 

But Cole’s introduction to the others would have to wait. Because there was urgent business. Urgent enough and sensitive enough she hadn’t summoned the war council. Perhaps that was foolish of her… She hadn’t even though to leave a note… Luckily Varric seemed more inclined to make sure they knew they would be coming back. 

_ Hopefully _ . 

Varric was insistent of coming with her - she did need his help even if she didn’t want to put him in the way of danger.... 

“ **What is it you feed these beasts? Small children? Full grown men? If my legs are going to be forced so far apart I’d rather be completely naked and slathered in exotic oils… Not on… this thing you insist on calling a horse...** ” 

Freya was tired, emotionally exhausted. She’d slept some. Then had gotten up. Leaving the Commanders tent. Going to get a change of clothes. Barely getting them when the mage appeared in all the flourish that was Dorian. “ **You could run along beside us instead, sparkles,** ” Varric offered. 

She grinned at the thought. The mage had been whining incessantly over having to run. 

Dorian gaped at Varric as if he’d suggested castration, “ **me? Run along beside you all? Perish the thought.** ”

If there was anything she could be thankful for - was Dorian’s banter. He was good at distracting her from what was going on. And in a lot of ways he made her think of herself. Using bullshit and grandstanding to distract. Freya was sure under the untouchable seeming confidence of Dorian, was someone whom had suffered at least a little. 

“ **Next you’ll be on about the cold again,** ” Freya teased. 

“ **Does the cold not bother any of you? Truly?** ” voice laced with scandal at the thought. 

“ **There we go. There it is.** ”

It was hard travelling all the way to Redcliffe in such a time crunch. A huge portion of the mages had already started moving. Some remained behind as Felix had been so good as to fake the worsening of his condition. Freya hoped if she could take down Alexius - they could track down where he sent the mages. Stop this…  _ madness  _ before it was too late.

The poor mounts had been exhausted by the time they could see the final path to their destination. Their asses a little worse for wear. Her mouth setting into a grim line. There hadn’t been much to the plan. It would have been beneficial to have talked to the war council. She was sure that Leliana would have some brilliant idea. Or Cullen given some tactical insight… 

But it was too late for that. Time was of the essence. 

Just before they had made the final ascent - Dorian squealed indignantly, “ **Dorian… By the makers hairy cock - are you trying to alert the whole of Redcliffe we’re here?** ” Freya wasn’t impressed - and as she turned to look at him - was once again - less than impressed. “ **COLE?!** ”   
  


“ **You needed help. I came to help.** ” He was like that loyal dog that jumped his fence to follow their master when they’d  _ SPECIFICALLY LEFT THEM AT HOME _ . 

“ **Nug shit,** ” Varric cursed. 

“ **Closer to Druffalo shit…** ” she muttered.

“ **Begone demon!** ” Dorian squealed.

“ **Dorian… Calm down. He’s a good spirit. He helped me - he’s how I survived the Envy demon.** ”

Cole disappeared and appeared on the back of her horse, “ **I startled him… But I wanted to help… Time… Twisting, folding, falling…** ” cryptic as usual. “ **They’re here. The Venatori. The Elder one sent for his mages. I can help.** ” 

She hesitated. She’d seen the spirit fight. Like a shadow that danced in and out of the field. Fatal. 

“ **If a number of us distract - can you even the playing field?** ”

“ **Yes!** ” Cole said with a nod, smiling, “ **I can help.** ” 

  
  


To avoid suspicion Freya had told Dorian to split off. That she was sure he’d know when to make his grand entrance - but to approach Alexius she wanted to ensure the Magister did not see all of her cards. They needed at least some line of surprise. And as much as she wanted to keep Cole far away from danger - he was right. She needed help. And his help - would be invaluable. 

But since when had anything gone perfectly for Freya? 

Fucking never. 

It had started fine enough. Pleasantries. Both parties dancing around accusations. Josephine would have been proud… 

“ **I’d much rather discuss your time magic, Alexius,** ” Freya’s amber eyes challenging the Magister, it was a turning point. She knew it. And instantly - he knew it. 

“ **I’m afraid I have no idea what you mean,** ” That sounded forced. It made Freya snort at the pathetic attempt to lie. She’d have thought he’d be better at it. 

Felix seemed over the whole charade - “ **she knows everything father.** ”

“ **Felix - what have you done?** ” 

“ **We made sure to disable your trap before we came in. I hope you don't mind.** ” - partially true. Mostly not. But her bullshitting was at least more convincing than him. Also it felt good to taunt this man - this mage that enforced all the bad things people believed in their people. 

“ **I’ve yet to see your cleverness, I’m afraid,** ” the Magister taunted back. Freya didn’t lose the devil may care smile on her face, “ **You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark - a gift you don't even understand - and think you're in control? You’re nothing but a** **_mistake_ ** **.** ”

She gave a brash laugh, “ **I’ve walked in with less and I’ve been called worse,** ” she mused. Showing that false confidence she was good at conjuring when she needed it, “ **if you’re so knowledgeable - enlighten me. What is this darling glow on my hand meant to be?** ” 

“ **It belongs to your betters. You wouldn't even begin to understand its purpose,** ” as if she hadn’t heard that bullshit in a million different words before.

Felix stepped forward, “ **Father** ,” he implored. Burdened by his love for his father - Freya truly believed he wanted to save the man. To make him see his shortcomings… He saw the ugly parts of the man that raised him and pleaded for him to remember the good… “ **listen to yourself. Do you know what you sound like?** ”

“ **He sounds exactly like the sort of villainous cliche everyone expects us to be-** ” Dorian entered from the shadows. His voice holding the undertone of frustration. 

“ **Dorian** .” Alexius quipped, “ **I gave you a chance to be a part of this.** **_You_ ** **turned me down… The Elder One has power you would not believe! He will raise the imperium from its own ashes!** ”

  
  


“ **Blah blah, “** **_My cult is better than yours._ ** **” I’ve heard it a thousand times** ” Freya mocked.

Dorian stepped in with another brilliant quip of which was quickly making her grow fond of the other mage, “ **Well, you know, it’s a chance for the Imperium to really one-up that whole “** **_starting the blight_ ** **” thing.** ”

Freya couldn’t stop herself from grinning at that. Alexius seemed to not appreciate all of it, “ **he will make the world bow to mages once more. We will rule from the Boeric Ocean to the Frozen Seas.** ”

Fiona was outraged at this news, Freya was rather convinced she had no idea, “ **you can’t involve my people in this!** ”

Dorian stepped forward, imploring the Magister - “ **Alexius, this is** **_exactly_ ** **what you and I talked about** **_never_ ** **wanting to happen! Why would you support this?** ”

Felix following suit once more, trying to reach his father, the man had a look of guilt on his face. But still there was a determination despite Felix words - “stop it, Father. Give up the Venatori. Let the southern mages fight the Breach… and let’s go home.” The last words a pleading. Freya felt for the young man. 

Alexius twisted around, impassioned, “ **No! It’s the only way, Felix. He can** **_save_ ** **you!** ”

“ **Save me?** ” Felix seemed to despair at the idea that his father would throw out his morals for him. 

Alexius seemed determined to convince his son to his side, “ **there is a way. The Elder One promised! If I undo the mistake at the temple…** ” 

Felix stepped towards his father, “ **I’m going to die. You need to accept that. Father - I’ve accepted it. I’m at peace with the fact.** ”

Alexius twisted around, yelling out, “ **Seize them, Venatori! The Elder One demands this man’s life!** ” 

Luckily as Rey looked behind her she saw the smoke, the dance of shadows, the gasps and gurgles. Cole had done very well. Bodies had hit the floor. Freya turned back, perhaps a little bit cocky - this was going so much better than with the Templars…

Famous last words, right? 

“ **Your men are dead, Alexius.** ”

The magister flew into a further rage. A desperate sort… “ **You… ARE A MISTAKE! You NEVER should have existed!** ” 

There wasn’t time to properly react. Luckily Dorian was faster than Rey, “NO!” he’d bellowed, trying to throw a barrier. 

And once more - Rey was tossed into the unknown.

  
_ Fuck _ .


	16. Some Sign of Life

Cullen had a good idea where they had gone. Leliana - while admitting it was a possibility - had disapproved of his insistence of sending troops immediately to Redcliffe. She had argued how bad it would be to march an ‘Orlesian’ guard. But he didn’t care. He refused to take no for an answer. Leliana had resigned. But convinced him to take less soldiers. And insisted on bringing some insurance along as well. 

He didn’t care if he seemed irrational. Or impulsive. But there was no way he was just going to sit there and do nothing. He couldn’t remember being so fearful for someone, for needing to be there for them. And maybe it made him ill fit for commander of the inquisition armies. But Freya was out there. 

She was out there and - she needed him. It was irrational maybe. But the feeling would not leave him. He’d ridden hard to get to Redcliffe. The soldiers almost lost a few times. He’d arrived at Redcliffe on a sweat coated horse. The poor creature was completely worn out. Cullen had nearly thrown the reins at one of the soldiers as he strode towards Redcliffe castle. 

Good thing they had done so many drills, because their Commander was focused on one thing. And it was not leading. He’d cared nothing but finding Freya. Making sure she was fine. His heart had been in his throat as they found signs. Found bodies. 

Kicking the final door that refused to open. One more kick and the doors flew open. Seeing Varric with his crossbow against a mans throat, “ **what did you do?!** ” 

A boy rocked near him, “ **no no no no. I don’t hear her - I can’t help. I can’t feel her.** ” 

Freya … She wasn’t here.    
  


Varric was tough - he didn’t break. He deflected things from hurting him. For the dwarf seem like he might actually -  _ cry _ , his voice cracking, straining, angry and full of despair, “ **where is she Alexius!** ”

“ **Varric… Were… Where is she- where is Freya…** ” his voice felt weak. And something told him he didn’t want to know. 

He could see the dwarf flinch at the question, Cullen didn’t need to see his face. The sagging in the other mans shoulders…” **Curly… She…** ” - Varric fidgeted with Bianca, holding himself back from pulling the trigger of the crossbow. He could  _ feel  _ how much Varric wanted to kill the man… “ **She- I wish you arrived a little sooner. She’s - gone.** ” 

  
  


Cullen couldn’t breath. He felt as if Fenris had come and pulled the heart from his chest. The world around him felt like it was breaking. His hands shook... His stride was purposeful. No apology as he pushed Varric aside. His hands gripping the other Magisters robes. Full of rage as he slammed the man against the wall, “ **where. Is. she.** ” 

His voice betraying the depths of emotion he was feeling. He hadn’t heard the soldiers shifting behind him as they came into the room. If he had - he wouldn’t have cared. “ **She was a mistake,** ” the man answered.

Pulling him from the wall before slamming him once more against the bricks, his voice raw, “ **what did you do?!** ” 

Alexius was finding it difficult to breath as his clothes bunched and pressed against his throat, “ **I undid the mistake.** ” 

Cullen roared as he flung the magister against the wall again. His fist slamming into Alexius. He didn’t need red lyrium to see red. He would kill him. Kill him for what he’d done. Freya was no mistake.

It was Felix and one of his soldiers that pulled him off. Though he fought them. Singular in his purpose. When green flashed in the corner. Cullen looked briefly before going back to fighting to get to Alexius…

His head whipped back, when he finally managed to register whom he had seen. 

Freya. 

It was as if someone had stripped all hope from him. And then slammed it all back. The emotional whiplash was devastating. He couldn’t speak. The soldier and Felix felt the shift. Slowly easing. Cullen felt the movement of air as one grabbed for him again as he lunged forward. But it wasn’t for Alexius this time. It was for Freya. Pale faced and heart racing. 

He stopped short of her. His breath quick, chest heaving. He was afraid - afraid to reach out and touch her. Afraid she wasn’t real. He didn’t even give Dorian a look. His eyes burned into Freya’s. Sorry - that would have been a good start. 

“ **What were you thinking? Why didn’t you - why didn’t you wake me. Talked to your ADVISORS about this. It was reckless. Dangerous. You-** ”

The sound of more soldiers marching in - he ignored it. Thinking that it may be his own soldiers entering, “ **you left without telling anyone were going-** ”  _ telling him _ \- “ **you could have been-** ” killed - she could have been killed, his voice faltered, “ **you could have been killed…** ” 

“ **Would someone care to explain to me what is going on here? And why the Arl was so rudely kicked out of his own home?** ” King Alistair… “ **and - Cullen? Maker, what are you doing here?** ”

Cullen looked back at Alistair, Dorian’s voice drew him back to Freya, “ **Freya - are you… you look rather - awful.** ”

Perhaps it was rude to turn his back to the king - even without a world of greeting. But his world in that moment was only for Freya. He turned back, looking at how pale she was. How her body swayed. Mouth opening as if to speak before her eyes rolled and her body went limp. Both Dorian and Cullen lunged for her, managing to prevent her from hitting the ground. Cullen hadn’t meant to snarl at Dorian, but he had, “ **I’ve got her!** ”

He ignored the curious look from the king as he strode past him with the small red head limp in his arms… Varric had fallen to his knees. Relief so great. Dorian had stepped after the Harold and Cullen. 

The Commander could hear someone apologizing and saying that as soon as they could explain the events - they would…

Luckily for them it would seem Alistair had more compassion and patience then they all had probably had the right to ask for considering their reception. Cullen had refused to leave Freya’s side. Alistair had come to him. Had been curious about the little red head that had won over Cullen… The few times their paths had crossed… Cullen had been - non receptive of mages. 

Alistair had recognized the devotion that Freya had earned from those that followed her. It was not unlike the devotion of the Hero of Ferelden. Patiently he had gone through events with Cullen - of what he’d known. He’d talked to Dorian first. Then Varric. 

Finally leaving Cullen. Telling him they could rest at Redcliffe. But all of them and the mages would have to leave soon. That while he understood the plight of the mages. And that he’d wanted to help… He was backed into a corner after the mages had made a move as brazen as taking over Redcliffe. 

Refusing to leave her side, refusing to let her out of his sight. Slouched by her bed feeling as if he was in some uncomfortable inbetween. Willing her to wake up. Heart aching as he looked down at Freya as she lay unconscious. Swallowed up in the blankets. Looking so small. Fragile. Worst of all - like she was not at peace. She tossed. Turned. Whimpered…

She wouldn’t wake up… He had crawled beside her, pulling her into his arms… Feeling helpless. Cradling her close. Rocking with her, “ **wake up… Freya. You have to wake up.** ” Pleading with her. Tears falling into tangled red of her hair. 

She had to wake up. The inquisition needed her.

And more importantly - Cullen needed her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to leave this chapter here... But it kinda felt right when I got here. So boop.


	17. Sleeping World

Over a day had passed since Freya had collapsed. Cullen couldn’t bring himself to eat. He was afraid - afraid for her. Wishing he could trade places. He was expendable… She… Freya was not. Sitting vigil by her bed was not easy. And after he’d climbed onto the bed himself and swallowed her up in his embrace… It hadn’t been any easier.

But - at least - he could feel her breath. He hadn’t even managed to sleep. Despite the exhaustion that tried pulling him down. That kind of tiredness that was beyond physical. That unbearable kind that weighed on you emotionally. 

He’d felt a shift in her. The way she was breathing was different. The way she fidgeted… His voice shook, “ **Freya?** ” Voice pleading for her to answer him, begging her to be alright, “ **are - are you awake?** ” 

Nothing for a minute, he felt his eyes close in despair. Despite his eyes feeling dried out, and his eyelids like sandpaper. He could feel the tear falling down his cheek. Dreading that maybe he’d never hear her voice again…

“ **Depends…** ” a rasped voice finally came, “ **if you’re going to yell at me, then I am one hundred percent still asleep. Though also wondering why you’re holding a mage...** ” 

The relieved sob tore through him, his arms dragging her hard against his chest, burying his face into her hair as he cradled her to him like he’d simply die if he let her go. Hearing her voice simply - broke that wall of pain down that he’d been trying to keep up. He’d been holding her because then he knew she was still alive. Knew she was still breathing. 

“ **Owe… Cullen…** ” she complained, though surprised by the aggressive hug. Cullen shook - physically shook - as she squirmed a moment before giving in, “ **I - Cullen?** ” 

“ **Don’t-** ” his voice cracked and shook, “ **don’t ever do that again. Do you hear me Freya?** ” She hesitated as she took in the sound of a broken man. Until finally her arms reached around his chest and hugged him back…

“ **Cullen… It’s okay. I’m here… I - I take I took my time waking up?** ” she sounded parched. And in pain. He forced himself to loosen the grip he had around her, though his hand still moved, stroking her hair... Cullen hadn’t reduced to broken sobs even after the circle. He’d been angry, pleading for horrible things to come to the mages. But he hadn’t cried. Hadn’t been so reduced to a shattered state as this. As when he’d thought that Freya wasn’t going to wake. 

“ **I thought I’d lost you Freya… I thought…** ” he trailed off, despair clinging to his words. 

One hand tangled lightly through his hair, the other stroked his back.  _ She  _ was trying to comfort  _ him  _ after all she’d been through. “ **I - I don’t intend to do that again, if it makes you feel any better Cullen… I’m-** ” worry in her hoarse voice, “ **I’m sorry Cullen - I didn’t… Didn’t mean to scare any of you…** ” 

“ **No…** ” he pulled away from her, gently taking her face between his hands, shaking his tear streaked face at her, “ **No.** ” Repeating more firmly, “ **you don’t owe me any apologies Freya. I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s me - I need to apologize. I’m so stuck in a pool of my own stupidity - my own old hang ups… I will do better. I will be better. For you - I’ll be better. If I - If I had managed it sooner maybe-** ” his voice fell away, broken, “ **maybe you would have waken me. Maybe you would have taken me with you… I could have been there… I could have protected you… And I should have never pushed you to the templars… I…** ” 

Her touch was soft, stroking his cheeks, brushing away the tears falling down his face, the tears that blurred his vision of her. Her lips kissing each side tenderly, before she leaned her forehead against his. “ **Cullen. Look. Look at me. I’m here. I’m awake. I’m okay… Thirsty. Sore as Andraste’s twisted tit. But I’m okay?** ” 

A mix of a laugh and a sob at her words, looking into her amber eyes. Focusing on her. Feeling like the world of chaos - where he couldn’t find up from down, was being grounded. She had that power over him. He couldn’t talk. Just looking into her eyes. Learning how to breath again. His hand sliding behind her head, moving to kiss her. Tenderly - as if he was trying to show her how much he needed her, how much he felt for her… 

_ How much he loved her _ … 

She melted into him, hands sliding around until her arms hung around his shoulders. As through such a simple touch - he tried to express what he didn’t know how to put in words. It took everything to draw back, listening to her breathy gasp as she clawed for him, trying to pull him back in. “ **Wait…** ” he whispered, “ **you said you’re thirsty. You’ve been out for over a day. Maker knows when you drank anything - or ate anything…** ” 

“ **That can wait,** ” her voice pleaded, “ **I need you more.** ” 

How was he supposed to resist that? But he forced himself to keep a hand between them as she tried pulling him closer, “ **please… at least… drink something. Humor me…** ” 

A frustrated throaty noise from her as she slunk back. A pout on her all to kissable lips, “ **fine, Commander-** ” her eyes flickered behind him as he forced himself to get up to go where there was a cup of water waiting, “- **oh by the hairy ass of the maker. You pervs!** ” 

He turned - still red eyed to see Varric and Dorian - and Cole, peaking through the door… “ **We heard voices. So clearly we had to make sure the good Commander wasn’t going mad or something…** ” Dorian said in a flourish. But the absolute relief was undeniable. Cullen watched as Dorian nearly fell as he’d been leaning on Varric a bit in his leaning. The dwarf sprinted across the room. He realized that Dorian and Varrics eyes also were reddened. Varric had thrown his arms around Freya and he’d buried is face against her. Dorian followed. Cole seemed to be across the room, then in the pile of hugging on the bed…

“ **Promise we’ll leave you to do whatever freaky shit you kids do, just…** ” Varrics voice dropped off, “ **just had to make sure - you had what you needed… you know…** ” 

“ **Oh Varric. It couldn’t be any freakier then what you and that crossbow of yours do alone…** ” she teased him back. 

“ **You don’t know how right you are,** ” quipped Dorian. 

The other was quieter. But he had clung to Freya, “ **I wanted to help… I hope I helped some.** ” 

“ **Don’t you worry Cole. You helped me more than you needed,** ” she assured. 

Cullen felt another pang in his chest. How each of them seemed to have a connection - a bond like he never really had. With anyone. His life had become such a lonely, isolated one. He served. He obeyed. But he never let people in. Not like Freya did. As scarred by the world as she was - she let these people in and had made a family…

He couldn’t help but feel he didn’t belong in the moment. 

“ **Commander. Get your proper ass here into our little group hug. And please… bring the water. I am actually… really really thirsty… Thirsty as** ” 

“ **Andraste’s wrinkly ass?** ” Cullen guessed. It felt… good to drop the wall. Try to be apart of her quirky world… 

She gaped at him, “ **wow. Is that what you see when you kiss me… Kinky… Very kinky Commander… Not sure how to take that…** ” 

He turned red, she laughed and squeezed the three men, “ **I love you all… But I would cut off my left tit for that water right now…** ” she admitted. They backed off enough as she took the cup. She’d next to inhaled it. Sighing after… Looking to Cullen, Freya reaching out a hand as he remained standing apart from the pile on the bed. 

Hesitating before he took it. Gently she tugged him in, he lay beside her. The others had said they would leave but he could feel they - much like him, did not wish to be far from her side. He’d next to chased them all out every time they tried checking on her… Still. Reluctantly Varric had gotten up, “ **I’m glad you’re up Freckles.** ” 

The others equally as reluctant, got up and left with Varric. Leaving Cullen alone once more with Freya. “Don’t you hate me,” she whispered after the door had closed, “I’m a mage… I represent what you deplore more than anything. You hate mages - I know… Knew? And yet…” 

And yet what? 

Brushing some loose red hairs from her face, before cupping her cheek. “ **I don’t hate you. I - there are things in my past that colored my view of mages. And many have suffered for the actions of few. It’s an ugly, scarred hate. It made me into… This shadow of a man before you. I don’t want to be that hateful shadow anymore. I want to change. Know it is not you. It is not your fault when I become this… ugly monster with so much… rage… But do know…** ” he hesitated, her eyes burning into his own, “ **but do know that it is you that makes me believe I can change… That I can be a better man.** ” 

Both her hands once more found his face, “ **no one has the power to make me feel like you’ve been able to make me, Cullen. From the highs to the lows…** ” 

He flinched, “ **I’m sorry I hurt you. I - words are cheap. But I do mean them. And I hope to show - how regretfully sorry I am that I ever caused you pain…** ” 

Looking deep into each others eyes, the intensity stripping them bare. Exposing the deepest parts of themselves. He leaned in and kissed her once more. Tender and gentle. They tumbled and rolled so he was on top of her. Hands taking hers. Fingers entwined. Dressed as they were it felt so intimate. So close. 

Languid kisses, bodies pressed against one another…

His lips lightly moving to the corner of her mouth, peppering her jaw and trailing her neck…

“ **Commander** ,” came her breathy, needy voice. 

“ **Hmm?** ” he managed between the teasing kisses.

“ **I’d appreciate it if you… Apologized a little harder...** ” she pleaded, a light teasing entering her voice.

He chuckled against the soft skin of her neck, “a guy trys to be romantic and profess his love and you make a dirty little joke,” he mused. Taking a moment to realize what he’d said. Her breath caught in her throat. His words processed. Letting go of her hands, drawing back to look at his beautiful mage.    
  


“Do you?” she breathed, aching for the answer. 

“ **I do…** ” his words light. Freeing even, “ **I love you. I don’t deserve you - I’m unworthy of-** ” 

She pressed her finger against his lips, “ **shut up. Don’t finish that nonsense. The deserve me nug shit. The ‘I love you… I could hear you say that a few more times,** ” she mused - biting her lip, before her warm eyes connected with his once more… “ **I love you too. Even if you make me wanna punch that handsome face of yours sometimes…** ” 

" **So you think I'm handsome,** " he mused teasingly. Feeling lighter than he had in days. She playfully hit his shoulder at that.

" **I will punch you if you don't start kissing me... _my love_...**" she sounded like she was tasting the words for the first time. Cullen felt overwhelmed with joy. Such crashing lows, to soaring highs... From not knowing she would wake, to hearing those words fall from her lips...

Cullen nuzzled in against her neck, nibbling her earlobe, drawing a moan from her perfect, kiss swollen lips before he whispered it again, “ **I love you,** ” she breathed back the same. They became a tangle of bodies. Shed of their clothes. Making love before they fell asleep in the tangle of each other's bodies. Fitting together like the pieces of a puzzle. Both sleeping sound. Free of the torment of their usual nightmares...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse me while I go DIE FROM FEELINGS. I was all: We’re going to smut it upppppp mah fam. Then I was like. My emotionsssssss. And felt a little more … right? To let it fade there. But I promise. More lovely smut will come in eventually. Debating next chapter jumping right back into things or just letting some stupid fluffy smutty time after this mess. Lmfao.
> 
> Anyways. The Vancouver Sleep Clinic - Sleeping World was what I was listening to as I sobbed through this lmfaoooo *dies*


	18. To The Grave - Pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So kind of decided to break this chapter into two. Have the big reveal before having to - you know. Do... hero stuff.

Freya hadn’t been sure if it had all been a weird dream. Honestly with how things were going - she wasn’t sure anymore. A part of her was afraid that she was still trapped in her own head with the demon. That the time travelling fuck show had all been conjured up by the damn thing. It didn’t look how it had - before she’d escaped. But then - wasn’t that the kind of mind fuck a demon might attempt to get her to surrender? 

She wasn’t anyone grand. She wasn’t anyone special beyond the anchor on her hand that allowed her to close rifts. Without it she was just another mage. An insignificant spec that otherwise would have never ended up anywhere near the inquisition. Truly she believed that anyone could do what she was doing. Probably better. 

What she questioned most was Cullen. Because a big part of her didn’t believe that his confession could be real. Freya was a damaged thing. There wasn’t anything - pure - nothing left of her worthy of anyone’s romantic affection. Love… Sounded so impossible. As a mage… Well. A mage didn’t get to love. Love was a weakness. Something that could be used against you. 

More so than with most. It was an unwritten rule. You found your comfort where you could. But love. It was - very unwise to let such feelings grow. And if they did - you pruned them, burned them. For your protection. And theirs. Cullen wasn’t exactly the fuzziest person towards mages. He’d shown as much, and confessed as much that he struggled with. He struggled with a big part of who  _ she  _ was. 

Doubts plagued her mind. Worries nagged. Fear that she’d realize any moment this was truly just in her head. That she’d failed to defeat the demon. Too many thoughts prevented her from having a peaceful sleep since the night Cullen had confessed his love. And she’d confessed hers. Freya waited - waited for the other shoe to drop. 

The majority of her life had been in the circle. And the majority of that had been as an object. A thing to be used and thrown away. She couldn’t help but feel - unworthy. The Commander's touch helped to still her thoughts for a time. His kisses clearing them away - at least for a short while. And the thoughts of her own worthlessness crawled back. 

If this was real - if she wasn’t trapped in a dream - if he knew all of her. The things she’d done to survive. The things she’d allowed to happen, could he feel the same? She doubted it. She knew herself and she hated what she saw. Bullshit and false bravado tended to keep people distracted from the cracked parts. But it was hard to hide how deeply fucked up she was. 

Now that she’d opened her heart, she feared the inevitable end. And the thought terrified her. To much time thinking. Worse worries would tug at the fraying strings of her resolve. Dark whispers of curses. Of how everything, and everyone she loved would be taken. How those she loved came to tragic ends.

So many lives on her conscience. 

The largest rift had been closed, her arm ached from the power that had been called for such an act. But she had managed. And had also found herself avoiding Cullen. Considering maybe now that the rip in the sky was closed she could protect them all better by leaving - she could quietly go around and try closing whatever small rifts remained on her own. Keep everyone else safe… Though there was still so much to do. Her heart was conflicted. In a desire for self preservation, and a desire for the makeshift family she’d started to build with the inquisition...

“ **Freya?** ” Josie’s voice called out, causing the mage to turn and look at the woman who may have called her name more than once, “ **could I talk to you for a moment?** ” 

“ **Hmm? Sorry. I was just - thinking-** ” - Freya apologized, forcing a false smile on her lips. Though in truth all she wanted to do was go and hide under the blankets and furs in her cabin and just sleep. She felt so emotionally and physically exhausted. “ **What did you need Josie?** ” 

The other woman studied her. As if debating coming back later, considering if it was a good time. Freya made sure not to lose her smile. “ **In my office perhaps. We could sit and hide from everyone else for a while.** ” 

That did sound nice. Though she felt that maybe Josie didn’t want to hide away for the sake of avoiding people. That wasn’t her. A weight dropped in her stomach. Waiting to hear whatever bad news it was. She was sure it had to be. “ **Sounds good.** ” Might as well go along with it.

She liked Josie, didn’t understand her fascination with court and the workings of the ‘important’ of Thedas. But she could appreciate her adeptness at it. She followed her into the office but didn’t sit. She was so damn tired she was sure she might just pass out in the chair before Josie got a word out, but her words woke her up pretty quick and sent Freya pacing - “ **We’ve recently gotten word from your family.** ”

Josie watched her closely. There wasn’t any way she didn’t see the smile falter. Ice entering her eyes.Tension clenching in her jaw. “ **Oh? I haven’t spoken to them since days before I got carted off to the circle. I haven’t anything to say to them, they haven’t had anything to say to me.** ” 

The other woman remained calm and collected. Even as the crispness of Freya’s voice bit at her. “ **I - know things are not very amicable,** ” 

“ **They aren’t anything. Like I said. They haven’t said a word to me from the moment they realized I was developing magic,** ” she hadn’t meant to snap, pinching her nose, “ **sorry. I just - I have nothing to say to them.** ”

Josie was ever the level head in the moment. “ **Leliana wanted to ensure I spoke to you about the letter,** ”    
  
“ **Great,** ” Freya cut her off, “ **we talked. Great talk…** ”

“ **Please… Freya. Read the letter. You still want to walk out after, you can. But Leliana - she said that someone in there will be important for you to hear about. They mention a Luna?** ” 

Freya instantly paled, “ **they what?** ”

“ **Luna...** “ Josie held the letter out. Freya snatched it up greedily and her amber eyes flickered along the lines. Her face paled as she read through further. A myriad of emotions flitting through her. From shock. To confusion. To hope. Then burning into rage. 

“ **They think…** ” her voice was frigid still, venomous, “ **that she is a - a bargaining chip? Some … thing to be used to get in with the inquisition?!** ” Her eyes stung from the threat of tears. Her voice turning into a roar, “ **I will kill them. I will gut them! How… Did Leliana confirm this blasphemous claim?** ” 

“ **Leliana simply told me she has confirmed it. She did not share to me though who the letter speaks of. She said you may appreciate the chance to privacy on the matter…** ” Freya felt adrift. Lost at sea - like she could fly above in the clouds, and like she could shatter into a million more pieces all at the same time. 

“ **Luna - I was told she died. They said she was to - weak. I knew even if she’d survived they’d have taken her far away… But - why did they say she was dead… Why…** ” 

Because they could, because they were cruel. Because he’d wanted that much more of her stripped bare and laid waste. Josie looked like she wanted to say something. But honestly she had no idea what to. It was hard to know the right words when you didn’t fully know the story - know what was going on… “ **How would you have me respond? Do you want me to re-** ”

“ **Tell the** **_Trevelyans_ ** **they can send their fucking ambassador. But Luna is** **_mine_ ** **. They will have her safely brought to me. I will not have my daughter raised by a pack of vicious wolves.** ”

Looked like she had questions, but the woman nodded without saying another word. Moving to start writing. Her eyes drifted as she seemed to notice something behind Freya. 

nodding stiffly, before giving an apologetic look to Freya. Apparently they had not heard the door open in the angry proclamation from Freya. One word was all Josie said - " **...Commander.** "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyways. I had a few hints here and there. Heheheh. Did anyone catch them? Anyways. Not much time to deal with these revelations being brought to light because Corifititties is coming.


	19. To The Grave - Pt 2

Tension coiled instantly through her shoulders. All that Freya had been thinking of was her daughter. She hadn’t thought of what she’d tell Cullen. That inevitable end to what had been an ill fated romance loomed over her immediately. But - maybe more survivable than she thought. If her daughter truly was alive. She nodded shortly to Josie, “ **\- Thank you Josie. Truly…** ” 

She couldn’t bring herself to look at the looming form by the door. It was easier to look past him and next to bolt. Of all times she did not want to do this now. There was a million emotions already stewing in her. And the panic and joy of the possibility of seeing her child - her darling Luna…

“ **Freya** ,” his voice pulled to her. She wanted to look to him, instead she strode past with intent to get to the safety of her cabin. Perhaps have a panic attack there. Makers balls - there was a lot she would have to do to prepare for her daughter. The mage knew she had to talk to Cullen - but - right now… She found she wanted to pretend it wasn’t over - that her past hadn’t caught up to end something that had grown important to her. As much as she’d fought against the feelings.

The small redhead barely dodged his reaching hand as she speedily walked away. To many emotions. Far too overwhelming… “ **Freya!** ” - she pleaded silently that he wouldn’t follow. The blood rushing in her ears as her heart hammered was all she could hear as she made a break for the cabin - her safe space. 

And for a moment as she slipped through the door, she’d thought maybe he hadn’t followed. But his hand snaked through the door, gripping the edge and preventing her from shutting it on her face. For the first time she looked up at him. Fearing what she might see on his face. Concern wasn’t one of them… She could almost swear that was what was expressed. “ **You don’t have to bother, Cullen, I understand. You can - go,** ” maybe ripping off the bandage was best. 

“ **You understand what?** ” he asked, a hint of frustration entering his voice, “ **I don’t want to go. I want to talk to you - Freya - you have a child - why didn’t-** ” he’d made his way in closing the door, he’d reached to pull her in, but she’d leveled him with a look.

“ **Why didn’t I tell you? Makers hairy balls, Cullen. Why don’t you think? The only good thing to come from the circle was my child. And she was** **_taken_ ** **from me. I was treated like a whore for having her. Even if-** ” her voice faltered, “ **I had a daughter. And I thought she died. You - you were a templar. You probably think mages shouldn’t be parents. Probably think I’d be a horrible mother. Anyways. Like I said… I thought she was - that she’d died. That was what the knight captain had said.** ”

Her insecurity was clear as she looked up at him, heart hammering still as he looked at her with a frown, “ **I - it just caught me off guard Freya. I understand why you wouldn’t want to talk about her-** ”

“ **Because she was what you righteous chantry boys would call a** **_bastard_ ** **? I should be ashamed?** ” it was as if she fought him, proved her insecurities right… She could drive him away before he could walk away. Maybe she could feel like she’d controlled something.

“ **No!** ” he growled, brows knit, “ **because - I couldn’t begin to imagine how painful that must be. To have believed you lost someone - a part of you. I’m not - I’m not here to judge you Freya. And from what I’ve seen around Haven, you’d be a good mother. You’ve basically become another parent for every child that stays within our protection.** ” A single tear fell. He brushed it away with the course padding of his thumb, leaning to kiss her forehead, “ **I am sorry, that I have given you reason to think I would… That I would think less of you. Circles aren’t warm fuzzy places for mages. I know. Finding comfort where you can is hardly a crime.** ”

She stilled at his words. A bitter laugh, “ **comfort? What makes you think I got pregnant seeking comfort?** ” She looked up at him. She could see him flinch. “ **I got pregnant because if I refused the knight commander, the others would suffer abuses. I got pregnant because I was reduced to a object - a thing - just a warm toy for him and his friends. Does that change your opinion Commander? Did I ask for it. That’s always what they said. I asked for it.** ” 

The acid of her words washed over him. He closed his eyes and she expected him to leave. Even despite the attempt to sooth her. Even if he seemed sincere. Once more his golden gaze was upon hers, it almost broke her. As if he realized what she was doing. Why she didn’t trust he’d love her still. As if he could see how much she hated herself.

Lifting his hands to each side of her face, cupping it tenderly, “ **I would gut them all for you.** ” Fury - she could hear the undertone, in his voice, “ **noone - not you. Not any other mage… No one deserves to endure what you must have had to endure. I would personally seek them each and deliver you their heads on a silver fucking platter.** ” 

He rarely cursed. But the ferocity that grew. It was a promise. A shaking breath rattled through her, “ **I already killed the knight commander. Nearly killed me. But he died. I lived.** ” 

Cullen didn’t look relieved - “ **If I could I’d have him brought back just so I could give him a slow, painful end.** ” Her hands reached and slid over his own, nuzzling into his familiar touch, “ **if you ever wish to give me names - of anyone who harmed you. I will provide you the justice you deserve.** ” 

She didn’t know what to say. His lips pressing against hers. A soft moan drawn from her lips. Moving to wrap her arms around his neck as he moved to lift her, guiding her on the edge of the table. His kiss deepening. This time there was the fucking armor in the way. Of both of them. A frustrated growl rumbled from his chest at the realization. Kiss deepening… Hands exploring, her nails dragging over his ass.

Both having apparently arrived at an accord of forgetting the breast plates, and going immediately to fumbling with each others pants. Wanting to feel the joy of being made whole - of becoming one once more…Freeing each other from the confines. His cock already hard, and between her thighs slick with her want.

Freya’s head fell back with a pleasured gasp as he thrust into her. Thighs gripping him, moaning at his gentle nibbles along her neck before taking her mouth once more in a starved kiss…

That was when pounding started on the door, “ **Commander Cullen?!** ” 

“ **Maker-** ” he snarled, neither part in the mood to talk to who was at the door considering the good Commander Cullen was balls deep in her. She grinned as she shimmied her hips, drawing a throaty noise of pleasure from him. He leaned to kiss her again, when the pounding came again. 

Perhaps it was only then they realized the desperation in the voice, “ **Commander… I know you’re in there… Please… There is a massive force marching towards Haven- they’re breaching the distant hills…** ” 

“ **Fuck…** ” Freya murmured, their bodies moving, separating, drawing a whimper from her - only knowing how much worse this timing would be for her Commander. 

In no time Freya and Cullen had straightened up. They’d strode out to the chaos that had hit Haven. People running. People were already moving to get to safety. It wasn’t just fighting men here. There were innocents. Children. If anything could sober her from the heated encounter with Cullen - it was that knowledge. They both managed to fall back into their roles as they’d left the cabin. Orders being hollered by the inquisition's lion. And others from its Harold. Each gathering their people. 

At the gates they tried finding out who it was, “ **what banners are they flying?** ” Cullen asked - one of the spies reported back, “ **there is none - they have no flag…** ” The Elder One. Everyone spoke of the Elder One - the wanna be god. The one who would see himself ascend. Dread flowed through her veins. And she only felt a moment of relief that her daughter was not here… But other children were. She’d gladly fight to her last breath for every last one. 

Cole looked at her, “ **he’s angry Freya. You took his templars. You took some of his mages too. Closed his tear in the sky. He’s coming for your mark…** ” he trailed. She understood. He came for the mark. But he came for her life as well. 

  
“ **None of them are his now.** **Let him come,** ” she snarled with a bravado she didn't truly feel. 

Perhaps today would be the day she found her own grave. But she had so much to lose now. So much to gain if she made it through this blighted evening. This Elder One would learn that a woman didn't fight hardest when she had nothing to lose - but rather - when she had everything.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo. Maybe I am just impatient as I am with my actual play throughs in my need to get to Haven! Slowly Freya is on her journey to self acceptance and self love. Sometimes you need people around you to re-educate you in how to look at yourself. I'm excited for her journey. Because it isn't just a love story between her and Cullen. But her and herself. And finding peace with her past and giving herself to the unknown of her future. And I sort of see this is her big turning point. The big bad is on the horizon and it's bringing change.
> 
> Anyways. RIP Cullen getting a cock block. Guess Coriphytits can be the cock block champion now... The torch has been passed down...
> 
> PS: Might have noticed I do have a few other writing projects going in FF land. I have been neglecting them for this one HAHAHA - anyways. I will still be making regular updates. But might slow down a bit so I can move forward with those ones as well!


	20. Stay With Me

The impossible was presented to them. And Cullen failed. He’d found so much to lose and it had not brought the best of him out. A fucking dragon arrived. An archdemon for all they knew. What ground Freya had won them, was lost. 

Even then as he’d suggested the suicidal idea of bringing down an avalanche upon Haven to take out their enemies… Choose how they themselves went out. She’d managed to have a smart response for it. She’d looked at him and in front of the rest of their merry band of misfits, “I’m going to attribute your shitty idea to the probability your bloods still in the wrong head.”

If he hadn’t felt foolish before that, he’d felt it then. Freya was not going to give up. And the wounded Roderick would provide a chance at escape. Cullen had wanted to stay. He’d have Freya go. But once more - she had refused such a notion. She had asked him - commanded him - to take their people to safety. Get them out. Protect them. The children…

Worst of all, the uncertainty of everything hammered home when she’d pulled him aside for a moment. A tender kiss. And her asking him to promise, no matter what happened to her - he’d make sure her daughter was cared for. Loved. And not left with her family. He’d pressed a kiss on her lips. Refusing to say goodbye… Refusing to believe this might truly be the last time he saw her. But the fear whispered in his mind.

Each step made him feel like he was leaving his heart behind. 

The way had been hard fought through the treachery of the snowy mountain. Drawing further away from Haven. Further from the one who held his heart. Unable to see what was happening. Unable to know if she was truly alright. The fiery arrow signalling. And shortly after - like thunder - one of the mountains roared as the snow raced down. Haven was destroyed. And he had no idea if she’d survived. Worst of all - he had no idea how she could have…

They had finally made camp and he’d insisted on going back to look, despite the arguments that there was no point, others saying it shouldn’t be him. He was needed there. But Freya - he needed to look. Though the worry that he’d never find her. That he’d be left behind after having finally allowed himself to love someone after all the trauma of his past…

Guilt tormented him to the core of his being.

Yet … It seemed the Maker had shown at least some mercy, as he’d left the camp, it wasn’t far at all when he’d noticed the stumbling form through the snow. Watched as the familiar, small form crumpled into the snow. He couldn’t remember anything of what he’d yelled. But it didn’t matter how deep the snow was. He’d bounded to her. Pulling her into his arms. Heart seized with fear as he made sure she was still breathing. Her skin white as the snow around them. And so very cold. Tenderly he’d wrapped her in the fur of his cloak. Cradling her like the most precious possession.

Talking with the others was the last thing he wanted to do. Once again wanting to just sit by her sleeping form, willing her to wake up. But the others had started arguing and he’d been drawn in…

But Freya was strong. Cullens eyes drifted to Mother Giselle as she’d started to sing, then seeing Freya, he’d nearly been reduced to joyful tears. She was still so pale - and looked so small in the wrap of furs. And seemed less than pleased with the Mother as she continued the song. 

It was for Freya. The one whom had been willing to sacrifice all for them. The one whom had given all of herself to the inquisition to save Thedas. This small red headed mage had ignited hope back into the hearts time and time again. Her being here - alive. Standing as displeased with the attention as she was - it was enough to fan hope in them. 

She gave him hope as well. His heart swelling with pride for her. Even in this hopeless seeming place. With nowhere to go. Everyone was cold - weary. They crowded and kneeled to her, warmed by the promise of hope. 

Before he could steal her away after Solas had walked off with her. Cullen reluctantly waited. He’d pulled her into his embrace the moment she’d returned to her tent. He’d waited, burying his face into her hair and breathing in her scent. He’d hardly noticed he was shaking. Her arms wrapping around his waist. He’d been afraid of losing her. 

No - he had been  _ terrified  _ he had lost her. 

In silence they stood holding each other. Cullen hadn’t an idea of how long it was before she’d lifted her head from his chest, meeting her eyes. It had only been then that he’d realized he’d been crying. She moved her hands to his face, gently brushing the tears away. “ **I’m glad you made it,** ” her voice was quiet. Weighed down by a million thoughts no doubt. 

“ **And I you,** ” he rasped out in an aching whisper. As if he didn’t trust his voice to be any louder. He pulled her towards the bedroll, all he wanted to do was hold her. To feel each breath she took. Soon her head rested on his chest, fingers lightly tracing nonsensical lines over his skin. “You - you could have - died… That can’t - I won’t let something like this happen again. The inquisition needs you…” 

“ **Luckily, I made it,** ” she murmured back, the long exhale fluttering along his muscles, “ **I did what needed to be done… If Solas is right - there is a place we can go. We’ll start the trek there tomorrow. We can prepare…** ”    
  


Cullen didn’t want to think of how her life was not finished being put in the thick of danger. He wanted to keep her safe - far from trouble. “ **I love you,** ” his hand lightly ran over her shoulder, “ **you’re truly amazing.** ”

She scoffed at the last bit, “ **amazing? Hardly. I just have a glowy hand…** ” a light kiss pressed against his chest, “ **but I could hear more about this loving me business…** ” she was quick to pull herself down in many ways - but she hid it behind teasing. 

“ **You are though. You inspire people. Give them hope…** ” still tracing along her arm abscently, “ **I’m undeserving.** ”

Once more she scoffed, “ **oh makers hairy ass crack, Cullen. ‘Undeserving’ he says,** ” snorting, “ **shut up. I love you. You deserve my love, you big dummy.** ” 

“ **Big dummy?** ” he mused, “ **Freya. You should know - so I’m going to tell you this. You deserve all the love and admiration in the world.** ” 

No scoffing this time. He could almost hear her choke back some retort. Knowing very well she was like him in that way. They struggled often to see their own worth. He wanted her to see hers. Freya moved, rolling on top of Cullen. Sitting up and straddling him, fingers lightly dragging over his stomach. The blankets falling away exposing her soft curves. Enjoying the view of the gentle slope of her breasts, the coral tips of her nipples… Her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she looked down at him, studiously it seemed. His hands moved to her thighs. 

“ **Makers breath, you’re beautiful,** ” he praised. A groan pulled from him as she rocked her hips against him. She bent down, capturing his lips in a kiss. Passionate and needy for more. His hands moving. Massaging the round of her ass. Delighting in the purring moans it drew from his lover. 

Her hand moved between their bodies, taking hold of his cock. Stroking as she met his mouth in fevered kisses. His growing erection throbbing at her touch. Nipping her bottom lip before kissing a line along her jaw. She was eager for his touch, “I think we had something to finish - you know. Before we got interrupted by everything,” her voice feathered against his mouth. 

He grunted approval. One hand moving so he could thumb her clit. She’d lost balance slightly at the sudden pulse of pleasure. And he’d taken full advantage of it. She’d released her teasing grip from his cock as she steadied herself. A squeal drawn from her as he flipped her onto her back. A grin on his lips before he started to kiss and nip down the center of her, pausing to give each of her breasts attention. Tongue dancing about her nipples before once more he traveled further down.

  
  


Finally his mouth found her most sensitive parts. Tasting her arousal as he sucked and licked at the velvety flesh. Slick with her want. Drawing a mewl of pleasure from her as two of his fingers sunk inside of her.

“ **Cullen!** ” she gasped. Hand clapping over her mouth. Back arching, hips bucking into his touch. A tent had so much less privacy… And she’d seemed to remember as much. Heat in her face as she fought to muffle her throaty noises of pleasure. His tongue flicked over the fleshy hood. He could hear her gasp. Moreover - he’d held her hips down as she fought to rut against his touch. Like before his fingers found the right buttons. Curling inside of her. Beckoning her to cum for him. 

He ignored his own aching cock as he indulged in the delicious fruit between her thighs… His tongue swirling, flicking, mouth sucking and the lightest tease of teeth sending pulses of pleasure through her. “Cullen,” she pleaded, “fuck… Cullen. Please.” he didn’t stop.

She’d pulled a pillow over her face in time to help muffle the loud cry of ecstasy as she came, body trembling relentlessly at his touch. He wanted to be buried inside of her. He chuckled wickedly as he crawled further up her, pulling the pillow from her face, looking at her flushed cheeks.

Reaching she wrapped her arms around his neck. Meeting his lips, both moaning into the heated kiss as finally, his entered her in a powerful thrust. Her muscles clenched around him. Quivering as she came again from the sensation. He growled as he thrust into her, desperate to be deep in her. 

  
Her thighs gripped him, taking him by surprise as she managed to roll him onto his back. She wasted no time, sitting atop him. Rolling her hips against him. He watched her chest rise and fall. Cullen pushed himself up, hands exploring her chest. Once more claiming her mouth in a kiss. Listening to the gasping moans as their bodies moved together in the frantic, needy pace. Not some soft, sweet love. It was virile, needy.  _ Desperate  _ for every part of each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... Next chapter? HAVEN!


	21. Turning Into A Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. My heart hurts. This is why I cannot have nice things....
> 
> Okay so. I am going to go ahead and put a warning here. I know I’ve tagged some things already overall. But this chapter is going to be delving into some triggering topics for people. Such as rape/sexual assault. So felt I needed to really give you all a heads up.
> 
> NOTE**** I have made it so the next chapter is an overlap. So if you want to avoid this chapter - you can skip this just fine <3

Paralyzed. She couldn’t move. Her chest felt heavy. Like there was a boulder placed atop her, slowly crushing the air from her lungs. Each limb felt heavy. Such a sense was familiar to her. And no matter how many times it happened it fanned fear to ignite in her chest. Panic to infect her mind. And the feeling like she could not get enough air into her lungs. Even her mouth felt as if it had been sewn shut. 

Attempting to drag air into her lungs, eyes wide, looking around as she saw the glow of red in the corner of the room. Short, anxious breaths. She wanted to move. She wanted to run. But she couldn’t even get her fingers or toes to wiggle. It was pure dread. Eyes glued to the corner. The hazy, moving pulse. Like those infected with red lyrium. Crimson glowing eyes looking back at her. 

She tried to scream. But her mouth wouldn’t open. Her chest couldn’t push the little air in her lungs. The form slowly moved, shuffling steps until they passed into the light of the moon. Gaunt face a twisted mockery of the man she knew. It was the broken man in a future that could still happen... 

Cullen. Red crystals of lyrium jutted from his flesh. Muscles eaten away, skin sagging sickly upon bone. More eyes. Glowing - watching. Slowly shuffling forward. Getting closer. Making the room feel smaller. The advisors of the inquisition - her friends. Closer. And closer…

It was the haunted shadow of Cullen that got to her first. The bed shifting as he crawled - on - getting closer. Hand reaching for her - “ **it’s your fault. You’ve killed us all.** ”

Her eyes opened. The dull eyes no longer looked at her. No glowing red. The relief was only momentary. As Freya realized the familiarity of the room. It wasn’t Skyhold. Once more she could not move. It was like waking from a nightmare - only to be thrown into another. But this time, as she met the dark green eyes leering at her from the shadows - doubt filled her. 

She doubted herself, her memories. Doubted her freedom. Had it been a bizarre drug induced dream? Because towering over her, with an all to familiar smile that made her think of a blight wolf bearing its teeth. Knight Commander Thane. 

A whimper left her lips. Though she could not move still. She fought against what felt like invisible weights holding her down. Tongue like lead in her mouth. The heaving of her chest was the most movement she could manage. Refusing to even blink as she watched the man. Mind begging her to scream. Her thoughts commanding her to fight - to move. But she was rooted in place.

“ **You know I had to drug you. After your show of defiance the other day my delicate little rose,** ” his voice washed over her like cold water. Fear coiled in her chest. He sighed heavily, as if he didn’t want to do what he was about to do. But that sickening gleam in his eyes never let her forget how much he adored it… “ **We’d gotten so far, my flower. But now I have to restart your training again,** ” his hand sliding along the inside of her leg - up her thigh. Making her want to vomit the higher they slid, “ **_prune_ ** **away the diseased leaves.** ” He shoved his fingers inside of her. 

She couldn’t move. Only able to make a pathetic distraught breath. The lecherous smile tugged wider. A tear falling from the corner of her eye. “ **Mmmh** ,” his eyes darkened with delight as his nails scraped inside of her. Before dragging his touch from her. She wasn’t on a bed. She was on a table - That horrible cold slab of stone he’d torture her upon. His favorite place to use her - abuse her. Rape her.

Bile bit at the back of her throat as he dragged his tongue along the fingers he’d inserted inside of her. She couldn’t see what tools he’d selected - they lay beyond the curve of her own body. Out of sight. She forced her eyes closed. Wishing - hoping she’d blink and she’d wake up. Realize it was just a bad dream. He was just a bad memory… That she’d killed him. That she had escaped.

Cool sharp steel dragged along the curve of one of her breasts. Drawing a grunt of pain - eyes flickering back open. He was still there. The pain felt real. It was all too real. Too familiar. And suddenly - the many months that had come to pass seemed like a fading dream. 

The warmth of Cullen as he pulled her into the safety of his arms - a mocking concoction of her mind. Something in her whispered. _Of course it was a dream - who could love you? You’re not someone of value? You’re a mage. The only thing you’re good for is to give somewhere warm for the templars to shove their cock. Even a former templar could never love someone as filthy and ruined as you. Undeserving. You’re lucky anyone even wants to use your worthless body._

Familiar thoughts. Like talons clawing at her mind, digging in. gripping - ripping her worth apart. “ **You’re so lucky I love you, my little rose. Most would have had you executed. But I could never do that to you. I could never let you go…** ” His words had a false sweetness. The blade lightly dragged against her other breast. Enough to draw blood. Another whimper drawn from her closed lips. 

Eyes begging him to do just that. Kill her. End it all. But she knew he would never give her that escape. He would never kill her. Never make her tranquil. If she couldn’t fear him, if he couldn’t inflict emotion in her - it took out the joy of it for him. What fun was there in it for a cat if the mouse was dead? 

“ **You’re mine. You’ll always be mine,** ” his words a promise - a threat, “ **you’ll never be free of me. And you deserve to be punished. For the spell you’ve cast over me little rose. I think I’ll make sure you remember...** ” 

The blade was biting into her skin as he carved his initials on her stomach. Setting the knife to the side before he dragged a nail along the sensitive wound. Smiling sweetly. Spreading the crimson that oozed from the wound. He nodded to someone she’d failed to notice before. They gave an apologetic look as the sensation of burning flesh brought a rough scream against her uncooperative lips. The wounds being seared shut with magic. 

Thane dismissed them. Tears dampened her cheeks as he licked his lips. Moving to drag something else from beside her. Seeing the familiar thing drew a whimper from her. She felt powerless. And still felt paralyzed. Everything in her told her to fight, to run. But she couldn’t even lift her hand. Couldn’t move away.

Bulbus cold pitted steel pressed against her, “ **if you’d behaved… I wouldn’t have to do this,** ” he chided. Delight lit his eyes as he drove the metal device into the ill prepared entrance of her ass. Ripping, tearing, stretching. Pain so great she gagged. Choking on bile as he violated her. “ **Mhm. Don’t pretend you don’t like it little _whore_. You must with how much you fight and provoke me…**”

She couldn’t see properly. Tears blurring her vision as finally her mouth opened. A loud raw scream of pain as he continued to ram the torture device into her. Dragging it back. She could feel the heat of blood, the searing pain. He rammed it deep inside of her. Only casting it aside as he pulled his pants down. Licking his lips hungrily as he crawled over her. She could move more. But realized that while the drugs started wearing off - she was shackled. Shaking her head uselessly as she felt the pulsing head of his cock. Her body was already screaming at the agony already inflicted.

He let the same throaty groan of pleasure as he always did. Thrusting himself inside of her, “ **Mmh. Always amazes me that a slut like you could still be so fucking tight,** ” She sobbed as the man that revolted fucked. Enjoying the agony she was in. 

_Fight_. 

Another small voice whispered. She pulled against the iron. It bit at her raw wrists. It felt hopeless.

_Fight_. 

The voice was a little louder. Worthless whispers rallied against that little voice, telling her to just accept it. This was the closest thing to love she'd ever deserve. 

_Fight! Freya, FIGHT!_

That voice became a roar. It shocked even her as the magic pulsed from her, the shackles breaking. Agony filing her as force of the push also relieved her the weight of Thane. Chest heaving. Rage rising. The scream was a mix of her pain - her anger. And tasted of her desire for revenge. Brutal, bloody revenge. 

Thane had gotten up. Fear choked her as once more she reached inside of herself, pulling at her connection to the fade, inspiring magic to be thrown at the man. He’d dodged. Grabbing her hands. “ **Freya!** ” 

Confusion. His voice didn’t fit his face. She fought on. Twisting. Clawing. Fighting. 

“ **Freya! Stop!** ” So familiar - yet so far away in her memory. 

“ **Freya! Wake up!** ” She wasn’t naked. Sweat drenched. Cold. Confusion setting into her bones - the flickering throbbing green glow and the whirring of the source. “ **FREYA! You need to close it!** ” 

Claw like hands reached for her. Eyes wide as she scurried back, but another body moved in the way. A grunt of pain as the attack intended for her wounded the other person.

_Cullen_. It was Cullen. 

And there was a rift in her fucking room… Another demon came at her. Her head throbbed. 

“ **Cullen?!** ” she called out afraid, watching him as he fought the shade. No weapons. 

She thrust her left hand out, and green lightning slammed into the thing. Something moved to her right. Pain filled her side. A mind burst pulsed and forced the thing back. Wet heat slid down her arm. The room felt to be suffocating - too small as the shades slid across the floor. A scream tore from her as she put all her effort into pushing her magic to close the rift, and to attempt to drag the demons back into the fade before she did that. 

“ **Hurry up,** ” his voice was strained, he’d managed to get his sword that had been discarded with his clothes near the desk. His blade danced as he fought the demons. Blood and ichor spreading across the stones. 

  
It felt like forever - but the rift closed. And the remaining demons dragged away into it as it shut. The crack of the magic creating a sound of thunder to echo through the space. Guards slammed into the room as she rushed to Cullen as he stagged and dropped to a keen, reaching for him, looking to look at his wounds. But he visibly jerked away from her. It startled her. She looked at him…

Fear. He was afraid. 

Her heart dropped. Mind reeling. Trying to process. The nightmare still fresh. But a realization that it must of have been her who had made the rift - she’d thrown her magic in her dream - what if … what if she’d hurt Cullen. Horror settled into her bones as she looked at his torn side. Claw marks dragging deeply. The guards rushed, looking for danger. Rushing to their commander and going to help him. He met her eyes. “ **I- I’m sorry…** ” she rasped - he looked conflicted as he looked into her eyes. Before he could respond she got up, “ **I’ll… I’ll go find Solas to heal you…** ” she fled. 

Never before had she felt more like a monster. More like the thing everyone judged her as. How was she supposed to lead the inquisition - to keep the mantle of inquisitor when she was clearly a - threat. A danger? At least the thunder of her magic imploding upon itself to rid the room of demons and the rift had drawn man out. Solas found her at the door. 

“ **Inquisitor - you’re bleeding,** ” surprised, the elven apostate reached for her, she jerked back.

“ **No… please - Cullen. He was hurt worse. I’m - I’m fine…** ” Angled so he couldn’t see her wound. To be fair she hadn’t even looked at her own clawed arm. Solas hesitated, “ **please**.” Finally he moved to head into her room. She Felt sick. Running into the cold of the night. But it didn’t slow her. Bare feet slapping against the stone of the stairs. 

She moved for the stalls, finding her mount, Titan. The large black beast snorted and tossed his head. Sensing the emotion rolling from her. Twisting, stomping. Flaring his nostrils at her. Freya needed his bridal… 

“ **Inquisitor?** ” it was Blackwall. Tears wet her cheeks, “ **what has happened?** ” The warden moved, looking around, hand hovering over the hilt of his blade. 

“ **I need to go - I need - I have to go,** ” bile burned at the back of her throat. She stumbled to move, vomiting in the corner. Body shaking. Blackwall moved, “ **I’ve - It’s-** ” 

Words failed. She was a monster. An imposture. A threat. No one was safe. Cullen could - She could have... Blackwall, “ **M’lady?** ” Caution in his voice, studying her. It was clear she was upset. 

“ **I’ve become a danger. I need to go to keep them safe - to keep you all safe…** ” pleadingly she looked at him. To let her go. He hesitated. 

“ **M’lady… please at least take my cloak and some things to ensure you are warm…** ” He gathered a few things quietly as the commotion could be heard up the stairs. She went to get her horse when she saw Blackwall following - she opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, but he answered before she could, “ **M’lady. I will not send you into the mountains alone. Please. This is more for myself than you, if that helps.** ”

She wanted to argue. To tell him he wasn’t safe. But there was a look in his eyes that told her his choice was made. And so in resigned silence she got her horse ready, he got his. And quietly they sunk into the night. Neither seeming to try wasting words on conversation. She wanted to stay - make sure Cullen was okay. Wanted to stay - wait for her daughter. But she was a danger - a threat.

She would have to find a way to defeat Corypheus alone.

It would be better for everyone...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyways. I'm going to crawl into a hole and die now :D


	22. Take Cover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter overlaps with the last. As in more Cullen POV. Not sure if next chapter will be him, or pick up with Freya. We'll see!

Running a hand through his golden hair, not caring he disrupted the usual neatness of it. It had been a whirlwind, the past couple since reaching Skyhold. Freya was named inquisitor - and Cullen could not have had more pride for all the mage had managed to accomplish. Couldn’t be more in awe of how she inspired the people - inspired him. There was much in his past that very well should have made it impossible for them to feel as they did about each other - just as he was sure there were things in her own past that should have solidified the same for her feelings for him.

Instead against all odds, they had crashed into each other. Like a force of nature she had entered his life, wreaked havoc to the defences he’d erected over the years. Being vulnerable was - well. It was terrifying. But it was worth it. How she brought him back to life… Her just being herself had healed him more than she could know. And he hoped he could be the same soothing balm she’d been to him, for her. 

A smile curled over his scarred lip, looking into the room to see the small frame on the much to large bed. The blankets kicked haphazardly away from her. Half on the floor. Despite her lack of size - Freya did admirably to cover the large bed. Her bare body a delightful contrast of cream against the deep crimson of the sheets. “ **Andraste have mercy, you are a vision to behold…** ” 

Someone else may have thought that Freya was asleep. But Cullen liked to think he’d come to know her well enough. He’d become - intimately aware of how her breathing changed once she’d finally fallen asleep. And even though he couldn’t see her face - and she didn’t speak…

Cullen could envision a smile curling her lips. Though he didn’t need to conjure the image in his mind long as she turned, eyes meeting his own. Silly grin playing over her delightfully freckled face. Tisking him. “ **Commander, I see you have a woeful amount of clothes on** ” 

She turned back around, moving, curling up tighter.  _ Andraste  _ \- Cullen thought as she wiggled her hips as she settled -  _ She’s doing that on purpose to torment me _ . He prowled further into the room. Crawling onto the bed, placing a kiss on her shoulder. Hand trailing along the curve of her delicious form. A light giggle left her as she turned her head, meeting his lips in a kiss. 

Another laugh as she squirmed away with a squeal after her bare back touched the cold of his armor. “ **Cullen, there is only room for one sword in this bed. Go take all that off -** ” she got a devious grin, “ **maybe I’ll still be awake by the time you get out of all … that…** ” 

Chuckling Cullen got off the bed. Obeying her without needing to be told twice. And perhaps agreeing with the feeling like he was in a woeful amount of clothing. Turning back he watched her feign sleep. Shaking his head in amusement as he moved back to the bed. Hungry to feel the warmth of her skin on his. To lose himself in her. To forget all that was at stake for another night. 

It was easy to forget all the problems that lay before them when they were alone. While he didn’t spend every night with her - the nights he did was like… 

Once more he crawled onto the large bed. Arm reaching and dragging her against his chest as he lay down. “ **Too late. I’m asleep.** ” Her tone was mischievous and playful. The timber of his laugh fluttering against the back of her neck. Hand moving to brush the hair off her neck. Peppering a line of kisses. Feathering more on her shoulder. 

The calloused skin of his fingers traced her body reverently. Sliding over the delicious curve of her, sinking around over the flat of her belly and making her mewl and roll her hips as his fingers settled between her thighs. She pressed into his touch. Craning her neck as they met in a passionate kiss. Soft sounds of want vibrating against his lips. The lips between her thighs already slick with her desire. 

It hardly took any time for Cullen to expertly tease her clit, stroking the bundle of nerves and bringing her to climax as she broke their kiss. Her hand curling, gripping his hair, the other dragging the sheets. Still trembling as she turned to face him. 

Panting breaths as he rolled on top of her. Meeting his golden gaze as she leaned to kiss him again. Drawing a hiss of pleasure from him as she dragged her hips lightly long the length of him. The wetness of her cunt exciting him further. Knowing her body reacted to him.

“ **I want you,** ” the smoke of Freya's voice feathering against his lips, “ **I want to feel you inside of me, to feel that delicious cock buried in me.** ” 

“ **Makers breath. You’ll be the death of me, woman,** ” Cullen husked back, playfully rutting his hips into her. Not penetrating her. Enjoying the warm folds of her cunt hot and wet against his cock. Drawing another moan from her, continuing to tease her “ **you insatiable, beautiful, creature.** ” 

A throaty whimper left her. Her lips feathering over his scarred lip, before once more they dissolved into a feast of starved kisses. He’d positioned himself and moaned into their kisses as he sunk into her. The warm, velvet embrace of her walls clenched about him. Stretching to welcome him in. 

Her own gasps and moans muffled into their lips. Mouth opening, welcoming his tongue. Massaging, searching. As much as he ached to lose himself and give into an animal need for release - Cullen rolled his hips into her slowly. Frustratingly slow. The calloused tips of his fingers reached between their bodies. Drawing a gasp from her as he thumbed the pearl of her womanhood. Dissolving her into a gasping mess, head falling back.

Cullen dipped his head to her chest. Tongue twisting around the glory of her erect nipple. Kissing and suckling before exploring the next. Her body clenched tight around him, muscles of her cunt gripping and throbbing around his cock. Drawing a hiss from his lips. 

“ **Cullen-** ” her voice pleading, “ **Cullen please…** ” - he allowed her to take control, rolling and holding her in place. Though the strain of feeling the intensity of their connection as she now straddle his lap. That glorious chest of hers heaving from the last orgasm that had rocked her. 

Her nails dragged along his chest, a smirk as she swirled a path through the light peppering of light hairs, “you know, Varric has it in his mind you’re smooth as a baby’s bottom on your chest…” 

Naturally she went to teasing Cullen, “ **I just adore how you’re talking about Varric when I’ve got my cock quite literally, balls deep in you.** ” His voice was a growl. Though while it amused him - slightly - all he wanted was to feel her riding him. Not thinking about Varric… And chest hair. She shut him up quick as she rutted her hips forward without warning. A loud moan leaving him. 

“ **Careful. Or I’ll fuck you to death,** ” she threatened. 

“ **Oh, by all means,** ” he gasped, “ **please do.** ”

Breathy laugh leaving her lips, before she dipped down, thrusting her hips again, capturing his lips. Gasping as his hands gripped her ass. Encouraging her to keep moving. “ **I love you,** ” her words bare, honest. 

Golden eyes burned into hers in the dim light of the room, “ **I love you too.** ” 

Bodies entwined, made one. She fell upon his chest with a gasping moan. So close to another climax. Cullen could feel he was close as well. He couldn’t last much longer with how the muscles of her cunt gripped him. 

Dragging her back to his lips, his own hips thrusting up to meet her. The clap of flesh on flesh as their pace dissolved into one of desperation. His nails dragging along the round of her ass. Lips crashing desperately against her own. Until at last Freya cried out again, Cullens own roar of pleasure followed suit. Buried deep in her as he filled her with the warmth of his seed. Freya lay atop him. Panting. Sweaty forms reveling in the glorious afterglow of their love making. 

They had talked, basking in each others comfort before they’d cleaned up. She’d seemed to preen about in his shirt. Much too large for her. Until at last, he’d pulled her into his arms, and listened to her breath. Only falling asleep once the rhythm of her own breathing dissolved into that of her own rest… 

Screaming woke him. Heart leaping into his throat Cullen had sat up, looking around for an enemy - realizing the writhing body in bed was Freya trapped in some kind of nightmare. He’d tried to wake her. “ **My love?** ” he’d started, “ **you need to wake up, you’re okay. I’m here.** ” 

Her eyes opened, and it took a moment too long to realize that while she had her eyes wide open - she was far from awake. Cullen didn’t have time to move fully out of the way as a pulse of her magic sent him hard to the stone of the bedroom floor. Grunting. He turned. The pure horror masking Freya’s face was overwhelming. Whatever she thought she was seeing terrified her. That was when she opened a rift. As if striking at a foe. 

Cold fear clenched his gut. The raw power she wielded was dangerous. And she had no control. Fear nagged at the back of his skull. Many templars - former or not - would have moved to strike her down. But Cullen froze. Instead in desperation he called to her, “ **FREYA!** ” 

Still trapped in her state of horror. He’d moved trying to wake her - truly. She twisted and fought, clawed. Primal, unfiltered terror fueling her. Another blast of magic sent him down. Without taking lyrium he hadn’t the ability to truly do anything to prevent the force of it. The magic forced him back - hard. He grunted as he once more found himself on the ground. Scratches along his arms and chest bleeding. “ **FREYA! STOP!** ” he pleaded with her. Heart hammering in his chest. 

A dreadful thought danced through his mind. What… What if he had to kill her? Demons screeched from the green void. One moving for Freya. “ **Freya, wake up,** ” he beg as he lunged - feeling to far away and that fucking demon to close- “ **FREYA! You need to close it!** ”.

He’d barely made it. Flinging himself between Freya and the clawing shade. Adrenaline seeming to aid in at least dulling some of the agony of claws tearing him open. 

“ **Cullen?!** ” -  _ sweet maker _ . He hoped that meant she was awake. He felt useless as he tried avoiding the claws of the shade. His blade woefully not within reach. A green reach of magic hissed passed him. He growled as it lightly singed his flesh. But welcomed the fact it had on the demon. He heard her gasp of pain as he moved for his weapon. Just in time to prevent the claws of another demon from reaching him. 

Hot, thick blood covered his chest. He slipped and grunted as he steadied himself. Just in time to block another attack. Feeling his strength waning, “ **hurry up,** ” his voice clipped. Unsure how long he could fight the damn things. Feeling as if his very life was ebbing in the heavy flow of blood.  _ Don’t think about it  _ \- he instructed himself -  _ fight. Just fight. _

Finally - once the rift closed - Cullen stumbled. Falling to his knees as guards rushed in. Heavy breaths tasting of iron, muscles shaking from the effort. Almost feeling dissociated as he looked at the blood pooling around him slowly. The guards rushed to him, trying to help. The pain awakened further with each moment now that he no longer needed to fight demons. 

But he could not help but jerk away from her. After all. Twice she’d hit him with her magic, and his mind was reeling from it. It screamed danger in the fog of his blood loss. Her face was a mask of pain. A part of him wanted to comfort her, the other whispered of danger. 

He met her eyes. “ **I- I’m sorry…** ” she rasped - he looked conflicted as he looked into her eyes. Before he could respond she got up, “ **I’ll… I’ll go find Solas to heal you…** ” she fled. That was the first time he’d sagged against one of the soldiers. Losing consciousness. He drifted in and out. Solas arrived shortly after. Worries of the depth and severity of the wounds. 

Cullen fought to remain conscious. He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he once more roused for temporary consciousness as Leliana hissed at Cassandra, “ **she’s gone, Cassandra. So is Blackwall. Two mounts and I’d assume some supplies… I can’t find her. I have my people looking for them… I’ve told everyone for now that there was an attack … that her and Blackwall had to go after the assassins...** ” 

He could hear Cassandras curse. But again the black nothing made reality slip away. And once more he went under. 


	23. Broken Lungs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've got about 4 chapters I have half written. I ended up doing this little quicky here to tide over while I finish some bigger ones on other fics - as well as the next chapter with one ex-templar lol.

_A calloused hand reached around from behind. Sliding over the sensitive surface her stomach. Those familiar, rough fingertips lightly traced a line towards the aching between her thighs. Her breath quickened, anticipating the pleasure that his touch brought her. He stopped short of her slip, tormenting her with the soft circling of his nails ghosting through the soft red curls between her thighs._

_“_ **_Please,_ ** _” she breathed as her hips moved into his touch, aching for him to go just a little lower… The warmth of him radiated against her back, moving closer, his other arm wrapping about her protectively drawing a throaty plea from the small woman, “_ **_Cullen…_ ** _”_

_Finally she inhaled crisply, knees weakening as she sunk back against his powerful frame. Fingers lightly pinching and rolling her womanly hood. He didn’t speak, but she could hear his own hastened breath as he teased her slickening cunt, supporting her weakened stance as she sunk deeper into the pleasure of him._

_He was safe - he was home… And fuck he knew how to make her chant his name like a prayer as he touched and teased her. As he pleasured and made love to her. Heat pooled between her thighs, her whimpers descending into nonsense as her body started to tighten at his expert touch._

_No one made her body react as well as Cullen did. It was as if he’d come with a sixth sense to her body. Her hips rutted desperately into his touch. She was so close, her pleasure building.. Finally she cried out in the explosion of her orgasm, sinking against her lover with quick breaths._

_A surprised noise left her lips as she twisted her around, pushing her back with more aggression than she’d been accustomed to from him. Her heart jumped, fear crawling into the pit of her gut as the red eyes looked back at her, a cold smirk on her Commanders lips. Cruel as he knocked her to the ground._

_Freya tried to crawl back, though she felt the cool stone of the wall as she backed up. Cornered. Heart hammering as he lunged at her. She moved to get away - but it was to slow. The iron grip of his hand gripped her throat._

_Desperately she flailed, her own hands clawing at his - desperate eyes looking to him, voiceless pleading as the breath was cut off from her lungs at the intensity of his grip. She felt like he’d completely crush her throat. She twisted uselessly against the power of him._

_“_ **_Who could love an abomination like you?_ ** _” Cullen sneered, “_ **_you’re everything I hate. I’ll enjoy killing you for what you’ve done, whore._ ** _”_

_Black dots threatened her view. She couldn’t breath… her lungs screamed and her throat ached - her skull started to throb._

Dying… you’re dying…

_Her mind screamed it at her over and over._

_She tried to push her magic out to knock him away. But the red templar - no longer her Cullen - silenced her magic. Her vision went black…_

Freya shot up in the tangle of her sleeping furs, scream burning her raw throat - lifting her hand to feel her neck, certain she’d find it crushed. Instead… Her other hand flared - the mark. Quickly she closed her eyes and focused on shutting the damn mark down. 

“ **Are you alright Lady Harold,** ” the worried question floated through the night, Blackwall had been started the first few nights. She pitied the poor man having to deal with her night terrors. He didn’t bother intruding in her tent to check on her anymore. Simply taking to talking through the fabric of the tent they took turns resting in while the other stood sentry. .

She choked back a sob, nodding. Before her brain reminded her that he couldn’t see her. “ **Yes… I’m sorry…** ” she apologized shamefully. There was much she’d had to endure with envy demon. Things she hadn’t told a soul. Only Cole knew. He’d helped - best he could. But there had been times the demon nearly had her. She felt like such a broken worthless thing.

“ **No need to apologize, M’lady,** ” Blackwall offered, “ **you’ve endured a lot, and in a short time. No one could fault you for suffering terrors from it.** ”

A heavy sigh left her lips. Tears wet on her cheeks. “ **I can’t afford to be… weak. I need to be strong. I have to end this…** ”

Freya could hear Blackwalls snort of disagreement, “ **M’lady. You are far from weak. You are a strong woman. Many would be unable to continue such as you. It might not feel like much of a victory. But it is. Don’t let your mind trick you out of that victory. It’s well earned.** ”

She was quiet, biting back her argument against his profession of her strength. He had been the sturdy oak that grounded her during their travels. Stayed despite the fact she had relentless night terrors. Stayed despite her magic flaring during a number of them. Despite the fact she was physically spent. 

He spoke again, “ **I’ll keep watch another hour. Try to sleep. We’re nearing our destination. Hopefully there will be answers for us there…** ”

“ **Thank you Blackwall… For everything. You’ve been a friend I don’t deserve…** ”

  
Another disagreeing snort, “ **don’t be hard on yourself m’lady. And it tis I who doesn’t deserve the friendship of you.** ”

Now it was her turn to snort in disagreement.

“ **I’m sure we could argue back and forth about this for the rest of the night.** ”

  
“ **Most likely could,** ” she could just hear the rare smile breaking amusement into the usually stoic Warden, “ **now try and get some more sleep my Lady Harold.** ”

" **Rey,** " she corrected, " **please... just call me Rey...** "

Another huff. He was always so stubborn over using titles. But he relented, " **fine, Lady Rey. Try and rest more.** "

While she'd rather not have 'Lady' in front of Rey. She still counted it as a victory... baby steps - right?

She brushed her tears away. Laying back against the hard earth. Muscles aching. But eyes already growing heavy. She just hoped perhaps she'd have no dreams at all.

But when did she ever get her what she wanted?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop. Just a little snip of Freya...Where are they going? Who knows hehehe.
> 
> Next chapter we will most likely check in with Cullen.


	24. Nightshade

“ **A blight wolf grins, ready to consume. Gaping maw snapping to devour. Claws ready to one again paw at flesh that doesn’t want him.** “

Cullen looked from his desk with a frown, slumped in his chair, still recovering from the nearly fatal wounds he’d had inflicted. More scars to be engraved upon his flesh. There was a lack of appreciation for the intruder. Cole had always made Cullen uncomfortable. His glowered at the - spirit? He wanted to say demon, but even he had to admit Cole had proven himself more then some mindless demon. “ **What are you on about Cole?** ”

The boy moved and with an oblivious nature - or a willful look over of Cullens wanting to be alone took a seat cross legged on his desk. Somehow managing not to knock everything all over the floor. “ **She didn’t want to hurt you.** ” 

The ex templars muscles tensed. Jaw working. “ **Doesn’t matter what she did or did not wish to do… Mages are dangerous. This just… Reminded me of where I lapsed my judgement.** ” He’d been plagued with old nightmares, and new alike. He was decidedly more.. Cool once again to the mages since the events of that night. Weeks had passed.

Cole seemed to be weighing something in his mind, Cullen expected him to next say his common endearment of ‘I want to help’. But he did not. “ **Red eyes in the dark. Like predators in the shadows. The room is closing in. They get closer… Her lion is red. Red on the inside. His words are daggers to the heart. ‘** **_it’s your fault. You’ve killed us all_ ** **’, Claws reaching… And then there is wicked green leering. Back to despair. Back to pain. Back to the circle where the blight wolf feasted ever upon her. Slowly devouring pieces of her soul. Let me die she pleads. Death is better. How could there be more to take? But he does. He takes and he takes.** ”

He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to listen to the spirit, or try find clarity in his jumbled words. But still he couldn’t stop himself. Frustrated he ran a hand through his hair, glaring at Cole as he growled back, “ **make sense, Cole. Or go. What are you trying to do? Help? This can’t be helped.** ”

Cole never was good at being blunt. Mulling over Cullens response. “ **She called for help. I tried to help -** ” he frowned, “ **but something old and powerful wouldn’t let me. I couldn’t get to her. Something kept me out. I could help when envy had her… barely. But I helped. This time I couldn’t** ” 

Perhaps he wished those words didn’t make him feel ill. The idea of something. His jaw clenched. “ **Are you saying she’s an abomination?** ”

He couldn’t see Coles eyes under the wide brim of his hat. But the youthful, wiry figure shook their head no. “ **She had to fight. But her limbs were made of lead. She was marked by something wicked. Made her fight once more against another whom had marked her with scars on flesh and soul… Uldred marked you, but didn't make you. You stayed you… The blight wolf marked her, but her choices made her new. She learned to fight. For a moment she forgot. And green glowed… What wanted to take her would reach. But she remembered how to fight… But it wasn’t the blight wolf of her dreams. She didn’t know it was you… Familiar - safe. Real. He was real. His voice was real. The hold was shattered and she saw you. And she was free from the smothering dark.** ”

Cole had attempted to be blunt. It was about as close as the spirit could get. And Cullen clenched a fist in rage as Cole seemed to skim his own pain - his own past wounds. He loathed it and Cole knew it. But he wanted to help - had to help. Help wasn’t always pleasant. Rarely came in a way they wanted. He wanted to banish the boy from his office, to yell. Instead he felt the fight leak from his bones. Slumping further in his chair. Voice barely a whisper, “ **this… Blight wolf… was he…** ”

“ **Sire of the moon?** ” Cole couldn’t say father - for he felt that was a word undeserved for the brute. Nodding. Cullens mind was reeling. Still processing parts of what he was being told. Wanting to reject it - to hold onto his anger. 

Luna had arrived a week following Freya’s disappearance with her families ‘ambassador’. Angry as he might have been Cullen couldn’t resent the child. She looked so very much like her mother. Had her red hair and alabaster skin. Flecked in freckles. The five year old was inquisitive, intelligent, and had done well in winning over many of those in the inquisition. Many whom still thought the Harold was off on a long mission as in secret Leliana worked to try catching up to the mage. Cullen wasn’t sure what further to say…

“ **I’m a monster - he knows it… How could I have thought anything different? - broken she flees. They aren’t safe. Not with her there. I’ll do it alone… But the lone soldier insists he goes. Luna will be safe with her Lion. He’ll take care of her - and so they leave. And she leaves her heart.** ” Shifting uncomfortably Cullen felt the familiar twinge of guilt. Since that night he’d been at war with himself.    
  


“ **Her heart?** ”

“ **Home. Warm. Safe. He holds her heart. She hopes he’ll trust her to hold his. Then she believes he never will…** ” Cole lifted his head enough that Cullen could finally see the spirits eyes, once more attempting bluntness, “ **she loves you. But she has holes. Fear. Hate for herself.** ”

“ **Why tell me this?** ” the commander snapped.

“ **Because you do too. It’s okay to fear. But it’s facing fear that steadies. Fear makes you cold. Dark. Angry. Hate coiling...suffocating…** ” Cullen didn’t want to admit it. But he had been afraid - he was still afraid. The war in himself was over fear of magic - and fear over Freya’s safety. 

“ **If she needed help Cole - why didn’t you go with her as well?** ” Cullen knew Cole didn’t deserve the harsh snarl he’d given.

“ **Because to help her, I need to help you. I - hope I can help.** ”

“ **I - am sorry - you didn’t deserve me to bark at you.** ”

“ **It’s okay. Sometimes you need to bark before you can heal.** ”

Maybe he was overwhelmed. The idea of this whole conversation - and just conversing with a spirit was… Strange. But he laughed once. Tired. Not exactly joyful. But it wasn’t cruel or malicious. Shaking his head. “ **Well… Any idea where we might be able to find her?** ” The last words betraying a hopeful tone…

Cole nodded, “ **ask Varric…** ”

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ **VARRIC YOU KNEW WHERE SHE WAS FOR WEEKS NOW AND HAVEN’T SAID ANYTHING? NOT EVEN TO ME?!** ” - after all. He knew the dwarf was aware of the relationship. Hell. All of skyhold had been aware. 

Cassandra was equally enraged, “You should have told us!” Cullen was almost surprised as the seeker threw her fist towards the dwarf who barely managed to get out of the way in time and skip away and hide behind a chair.

“ **HEY! The Harold gave me an order…** ” 

A disgusted noise left the seeker as she charged for Varric,” **ORDERED YOU?!”** Cullen captured her forearm to hold her back. Much as he also wanted to deck the dwarf for omitting he knew that Freya was alive and well - a brawl wasn’t going to get them answers any quicker. 

“ **Well… Requested… But - same thing right? Thanks Curly.** ”

“ **Don’t thank me… Because so help me - if you don’t tell me where she is Cassandra will be the one you’ll have to hope will stop me from strangling you.** ” 

Varric was looking wearily to the door and for any suitable escape routes should they be needed. It seemed he had some doubts in his silver tongue. “ **Well… You know how I told her I had someone I wanted her to meet?** ” Cassandra stiffened, “ **Well - I had already introduced them. And about a week after they disappeared I got word from my contact…** ”

“ **WHO!** ” Cassandra snarled before Cullen could get a word in.

“ **Well… It was Haw-** ”   
  
“ **I KNEW IT! YOU KNEW WERE HAWKE WAS THIS WHOLE TIME DIDN’T YOU?!** ” Cassandra was clearly not happy.

“ **Where are they now?** ” Cullen added in. 

Varric gave an almost sheepish look to Cullen… “ **Well… They met up with Hawke and - well. The crew… and Warden Stroude...** ” no one looked impressed as he didn’t give the other name.

“ **Varric-** ” Cassandra’s threatening tone growled. 

“ **Fine. Warden Stroud…** ” 

“ **A warden?** ” Leliana questioned. She’d been watching.

The dwarf nodded, “ **yes… Ah nug shit… anyways - seems there has been some… odd things going on with the Grey Wardens… You’re not going to like it. They met up outside Crestwood - Crestwood… is a story on it’s own... But there seems to be a mass calling for the Wardens. They didn’t get to saying much more - just that it was bad…** ”

“ **So they’re in Crestwood?** ” Cullen pressed. 

“ **Well… They were. Now they’re most likely nearly to the Western Approach. The last correspondences suggested as much… Heading for an old ritual tower.** ”

Cullen had wanted to ride out himself. But they’d told him he should take more time to heal. The scarring wound was mostly healed. But the joyous effort of retraining his goddamn muscles was a chore in its own. And he hated to admit it - but they had been right. Instead Dorian, Cassandra, and Varric were sent out to join Blackwall and Freya.

The news that would come back would be… Grim at best.But Freya was alive still. Their group had nearly missed each other. It would seem that Hawke had dragged along a few of her own crew. People that Cullen remembered. According to reports it was four companions aside from Stroud - but otherwise kept vague. Leliana informing him that they would not be taking Anders into custody - well. Hadn’t been received well. All he could do was prepare and wait for the messages to arrive. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So anyways. One of the main songs I wrote this to was Nightshade by The Lumineers. It’s a good song. Written for GoT. But hey. It works. Teehee. Also Battle Cry by Beth Crowley..... Anyways. I’m sorry if it bounced around a bit. Hopefully you were able to follow.


	25. Helpful Outlaws

The traveling was exhausting. More so when one was ill. And the last week had seen her worn down with sickness. But despite the protests and the fact she looked like absolute shit, Freya had pressed on with a sense of purpose. Hiding whatever ailments she could from the traveling party.

Unable to sleep Freya left her tent, catching Cassandra’s eyes following her as she watched Freya move closer to the fire. Finding Anders sitting, “ **maybe it’s selfish, but it’s nice that they aren’t watching me as closely with you here** .”

Anders lips quirked, “ **apparently blowing up a chantry has that effect on people. I’m surprised you were able to talk down Cassandra from dragging me in for execution.** ”

She snorted, “ **no way I’d let her, you and Hawke have helped us a lot. I’d be shit if I didn’t talk sense into Cass…. Anyway - it takes something big to start a revolution. Sometimes the most difficult choices must be made for the greater good.** ” There was soberness to her words. In many ways she understood Anders.The desperate actions he took for mages. While the uprising of mages against the cruel shackles of the chantry nearly had seen her dead… She wouldn’t have found freedom from that hell otherwise. That trial by fire against the Knight Captain Thane had been a rebirth of sorts. It had taught her she was strong enough to stand up for herself. To fight - and to win. “ **Personally I say fuck the chantry. Most of them are power grabbing assholes anyways.** ”

“ **Not everyone sees it as such,** ” he sighed heavily, “ **for years I tried desperately to protest peacefully. To bring about change as peacefully as could be done** .”

" **Religion has a place in some peoples lives. But it should never have a place in power - such as the circles or the templar order... It's a corrupt thing,** " Freya watched the flickering flames, “ **to the majority it would seem like we will ever be monsters… Unfortunately the worst of us make it bad for the rest…** ” Guilt flickered in her amber eyes. Anders didn’t miss it.

Sounding genuinely surprised he inquired, “ **and you think you’re part of the worst?** ”

Not trusting her voice, Freya nodded. Anders sighed, “ **you have been doing your best for all of Thedas. And for mages along the way. That is hardly the worst. I’m curious. You see the necessity for desperate actions from me. But do you view me as a monster as well?** ”

Keeping her gaze to the fire she shook her head no, “ **what you did gave people like me the chance to throw off the shackles that had stripped them of their humanity. Because of my dreams - I attacked the man I love. I - I nearly killed him…** ”

Anders reached and squeezed her shoulder, “ **you have an anchor to the fade on your hand. It isn’t exactly something that comes with a guide book. You have been doing the best you have been able.** ”

“ **Fumbling about like an idiot in the dark more like it. Anyways. I saw it in his eyes. What he truly thinks of me now. I don’t blame him,** ” she revealed to much emotion in those words, how deeply it had cut. How deep the loss was to her, “ **he’ll never wish to see me again I am sure… I was a fool to think I was one of those people…** ”

“ **If he cannot see the circumstances and see you for the heart you truly have, the man is a fool,** ” he reached to toss another log on the fire, “ **and whatever do you mean by ‘those people?** ”

“ **The ones that after everything can have a happy ending. Foolish… On this path I walk, the chances are I will be dead by the end of it all. After everything… I’ve never been worthy of love. I can only fight for a better world while I can… For my daughter…** ”

“ **Anyone can have a happy ending. I found a family in that shit hole Kirkwall. If I could do that… You deserve happiness. Just even in our short time together, I have seen you are a warrior. And a honorable woman…** ” he paused, weighing his next words, “ **you think its a girl?** ”

Freya looked at him in shock, eyes wide, “ **what do you mean I think it’s a girl…** ”

He nodded to her stomach, causing fear to clench in her gut, despite the fact he’d dropped his voice lower, “ **the sickness, your body changing… I’m a healer. I’ve seen many women during their pregnancy…** ”

She shushed him, “ **I - please don’t say anything…** ”

“ **Does he know?** ” Freya understood he was speaking of the child's father - of Cullen.

She shook her head no, “ **He doesn’t… I am not sure how he'll take such news. Considering his struggle to accept magic, and to try and get past the years of prejudice and fears of it... I do have a daughter… From - before. I have no clue for this child. I just know I wasn’t this ill last time... I fear I'd make a dreadful mother. I held my daughter for less than five minutes - they had me breast feed her. And that is the extent of the care I was allowed to give her.** ” There was a rawness to her voice by the end of what she had to say. Pained at all she'd been denied. All that time she had lost... And the reality that she may not make it back to Skyhold to see her daughter after all of this - that she might not even live to give the child growing in her life...

Anders nodded, offering her a quiet reassuring look, “ **I have a feeling you will be a good mother. You are strong, determined, and compassionate. No one is perfect. But you have a good heart, Rey. You'll do good...** " another momentary pause, - " **From what you have said I am going to hazard a guess that your lover is not a mage?** ”

Freya laughed, though her voice lowered again, “ **no, far from a mage. Seems I only allow templars to impregnate me… At least this time the relationship was my choice.** ”

The quiet anger that crossed Anders' face made it clear he understood the subtext of her words. As brief as they had been - the horrors of what was left unspoken seemed to make Anders want to reach out and comfort her, though he refrained for the time. Her first child had been conceived of a concentless relationship, “ **well. These are changing times Freya. There have been stranger things then a templar falling in love with a mage…** ”

“ **Like a tear in the sky and some ugly ass giant Vint Magaster who likes to consider himself a god?** ”

Anders offered a slight chuckle, “ **exactly** .”

It looked as if she was fighting the spark of hope Anders was trying to give her, “ **Cullen is a good man at the core. Just has a lot learned prejudice he’s been fighting against. Good man - done bad things. Like a number of templars I suppose. Fuck I know I have my own... Makers cock I swear I never planned on falling in love with a templar. I didn't think I could. I also guess I need to stop saying fuck, cunt, and cock so much as well if I'm to do 'mothering' stuff.** " For a brief moment she'd had her mischievous grin back, but it faded as the sad thoughts once more nudged at her mind, " **I most likely have undone any of the work he has done in learning to be comfortable with magic…** ”

  
  


The other mage snorted as she finally finished rambling on, he couldn't help it really, “ **Cullen Rutherford?** ”

She gave a slight grin, “ **yeah. You know how charming he can be when he gets all… Templary** .”

His mouth thinned as if he was judging his next words, “ **he can be…** ”

“ **An ass?** ”

Both laughed a moment at that.

“ **Honestly though - I could see how much he wanted to change. Also I’ve never backed down from trying to show him what was truly wrong with the system before.** ”

" **I believe it. I guess the man did leave the templars. I wasn't sure I believed the rumors he was disillusioned with them. Perhaps there is truth to it,** " Another pause, “ **I wish I could take the mark from you, bear it myself if I must... All this fighting and danger - you really should be trying to avoid all of this. Not because you’re incapable…** ”

She sighed. A pained look flashing over her face, “ **I wish I could just stop. I’m terrified. The mark - this war. But I have to do my part. Because if I don’t there might be nothing left of the world for Luna - for anyone. If I -** ” if she lost the new gift growing in her - she couldn’t say it. Her voice cracked. Shoulders sagging.

“ **Let me help you. I can show you some potions and elixirs to help strengthen you both. And until you’re ready to share it. Your secret is safe with me.** ” Arm slinging around her shoulder and giving her a squeeze. Only doing so a moment, " **let me do what I can to lighten the load for you along the way** ."

" **Thank you, Anders. You're a good friend.** "

" **I try to be, sometimes,** " he joked back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. My ass has been staying with my parents for a time while people are at my house in quarantine - avoiding that shit. Anyways - hopefully more coming soon! this is more a filler chapter I guess. On the way to slap them Grey Wardens on the wrist for being IDIOTS and doing ritual sacrifice.... LMAO


End file.
